Sakura, REBORN!
by sheisthesun
Summary: She knew her life was never going to be normal again—well, it was never normal to begin with. But being involved with the Mafia? That was kind of taking it a bit too far...Main Pairing Undecided/SakuraHarem
1. and so it begins

_"Say, kid, with the pink-hair_—_what's your name?"_

_"Sakura, ma 'am."_

_"What about your last name?"_

_"...Haruno, ma 'am. Sakura Haruno." She choked back a sob. The smaller girl noticed, "Ma 'am? What's wrong?"_

_"N-Nothing...you just remind of someone that was once dear to me. Nevermind that_—_well, Sakura-san, do you have any idea of why I came to Namimori?"_

_"...to see a relative?"_

_"Not quite. But the real reason I'm here is because I want to offer you a deal." _

_Emerald eyes narrowed, "It depends...what could you offer?"_

_"I'll be your mentor." The pinkette looked confused._

_"Why would I need a mentor?"_

_"So you can do this_—_" Green glowed, fingers were flicked, a wall exploded into debris, and emerald eyes widened._

_"H-How did_—_what...who in the world _are_ you?"_

_"Answer first_—_do you, Sakura Haruno, take the offer to be my apprentice?"_

_"...yes."_

_The blonde smirked and crossed her arms, "Very well then. Sakura Haruno, from now on, I will be your teacher and master_—_I'm_ _Tsunade, formerly known as One of the Legendary Sannin and what you just saw was a chakra-infused finger flick..."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Sakura, REBORN!<strong>_

* * *

><p>"I-I...I'M GONNA BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!" Falling out of her bed in a clumsy order, Sakura Haruno nearly ripped her sky blue bed sheets into shreds and tore off her pajamas, running to her dresser and throwing out her uniform onto her bed.<p>

Quickly brushing her teeth and untangling her pink hair with her comb, she threw on her button-up top and slipped into her skirt, putting on her socks and tying the red bow around her neck before tying her red ribbon in her hair and knotting it at the top of her head to hold her bangs back and flaunt her slightly over-sized forehead.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it..._Thoughts were running through her mind as she blindly grabbed her yellow messenger bag that rested on her computer chair, bolting out of the room and down the stairs, a small frown set on her face. Grabbing some toast her mother had left out before she left for work, she slipped into her shoes and ran out the door, locking it behind her.

"Aw, man," she muttered to herself nervously, running as fast as she could before taking a bite out of her toast, "If I go there late...I have to face Hibari-san..."

At the thought of running into the intimidating prefect, the color in her face seemed to disappear completely, fear running through her veins.

She bit her lip; there would be dire consequences should she _ever_ run into him...it was as if she was staring at the Grim Reaper himself, and the amount of blood lust that boy had was just disturbing. Especially when he had those tonfas hidden somewhere on his body—she always wondered if he was allowed to have those in school. She mentally sneered; _of course he's allowed._ No one dared to cross Kyoya Hibari, the President of the Namimori Discipline Committee, unless they wanted to _die_.

Speaking of dying, Sakura Haruno was about to be late. And she couldn't be late—with her life and perfect attendance in jeopardy. The pinkette bit her lip as she swallowed the last of her toast; she needed to think quickly.

She could hitch-hike...but no one would want to pick up an odd girl like her, with pink hair and green eyes and _especially with no chest_. She could bribe the teacher into changing her attendance...but she had nothing to bribe with (except her body, but she didn't want perfect attendance _that _much, geeze [_**'I'M NOT A SLUT, SHANNARO!'**_]). She could blame it on someone—like her mom! Yes...that plan would work except she'd still be entered into the school's system as _LATE_. Damn.

Wait. She could do _that_—yes, _she could_! It was the only plausible and logical solution that could save her life...

_Remember, Sakura—don't use it around civilians without importance. We need to keep a low profile._

_Well, shishou, I'm pretty much alone with everyone gone to work and school, so why not? _Sakura smirked and concentrated the green energy to her feet, closing her eyes in hard concentration. After a few moments, she jumped—nearly _15 feet_—into the air and landed on one of the rooftops, pausing to look over houses and spot the school. Locking onto her destination with a determined grin, she sprinted, jumping from roof to roof quickly.

_**Oh yeah, baby, CHAKRA!**_

* * *

><p>A blonde-haired woman in her early 30's took a swig from her bottle of sake, her legs propped up on a wooden desk while her assistant was sitting nearby, placing out bottles of medicinal potions on a shelf. It was a slow day at the small Namimori Clinic, with only three patients that had come for check-ups in a span of 6 hours—and she was enjoying the peacefulness.<p>

The peace did not last long though. Suddenly, she nearly choked on her drink—at the same time, her assistant stiffened, both their eyes wide. They looked at each other knowingly.

"Tsunade-sama," the younger woman said in a soft, cautious voice, turning around to face the blonde-haired woman, who was now sitting up right with a concentrated expression, "Did you feel that, too?"

The blonde nodded, amber eyes hard, "It was a burst of chakra—a small one at that, but it was there."

"Is it...another ninja?"

"No," Tsunade said after a few moments. She suddenly leaned back in her chair and waved her hand dismissively, "Sakura will receive her punishment when she comes to practice today." Shizune blinked for a few moments before sighing and going back to the bottles of liquid.

* * *

><p>The wind breezing past her face and running through her long, pink locks was simply amazing, and the adrenaline rushing though her veins blocked out all the anxiety of the possibility of Tsunade finding out she had used her chakra outside of the training grounds. <em>Well, it's practicing<em>—

Something brown and running caught her sight a few blocks up ahead of her. She squinted, putting her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun and get a clear view, but her eyes widened when she realized who it was; there was only one person in Namimori that had that thick, spiky hairstyle with brown hair—Tsunayoshi Sawada, dubbed "No-Good Tsuna" at Namimori Middle School.

No, she couldn't be seen! Especially by someone like..._him_—a no-good slacker; if it was the one thing in the world that she hated, it had to be slackers. As if the Heavens were against her, he looked over his shoulder and met her gaze.

For a moment, she thought he would shake his head and assure himself that he was just seeing things. But _no_, the kid's eyes widened (a miracle that they could get even wider) and he practically tripped over his own two feet at what he just saw. Her eyes widened in surprise, and because of that slacker, she got distracted and missed her footing. She fell face-first into freshly-cut grass.

Through her recovery of orbiting stars and mouthfuls of bitter plants, she could faintly hear his squeaky voice and the sounds of shoes hitting the pavement quickly, then him struggling to get over the wall. With her vision still green, she felt a faint thud of the ground (she could practically imagine him nearly tripping), followed by hesitant hands helping her from her sprawl on the ground.

She gritted her teeth; why couldn't the kid just leave her alone so that she could regain her pride? She had just embarrassed herself in front of the weakest link and all she wanted to do was curse at the sky and just mentally cry—oh. Right. She couldn't be late for school.

"S-Sakura-san," she heard him stutter out, and she looked up at him—who was crouching—with a hard gaze as she gritted her teeth once more. He seemed to ignore it (_**'How dare you ignore me, IDIOT!'**_) and leaned closer to her, concern in his brown eyes, "Are you alright?"

_**Does it LOOK like I'm alright? He's even stupider than I actually thought he was!**_

She glared up at him, making him flinch away from her. Roughly brushing his hands off of her, she stood up and dusted the dirt and grass from her head and uniform.

"Great. Just freaking fantastic. Now because of _you_," she seethed, emphasizing the word 'you' as she placed her hands on her hips, "I'm gonna be late for class!" He sputtered apologies, his eyes wide; she couldn't help but notice that his gaze looked somewhat..._sad_—her eyes softened; what she had said was harsh. _You're getting soft, Sakura._

"I-I'm sorry...!" _Oh, god, he looks so sad...dammit, Sakura!_

Cue the guilt that began to well up at the bottom of her stomach. She sighed, shaking her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "No, Tsunayoshi-san. I'm sorry...it's just that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and I...just don't want—I _can't_ be late for school." She gave him an apologetic look, awkwardly shifting her feet while he shot her an understanding smile.

"I understand," he nodded, "I don't really want to be late, either." _Late. _She froze once more and let out a small gasp.

"WE'RE LATE!"

He jumped at her sudden outburst and quick mood-change; what about him? She could just leave him here, and be early to school while he could come late...but then there was a chance he could tell people about her roof-jumping skills and people would get suspicious..._damn_.

Without a second thought, she grabbed the boy by the arm with her vice-like grip and jumped into the air with chakra-laded feet—she tried her best to ignore the squeals from No Good Tsuna, who was literally getting dragged by her, but she could only last so long. Not only was his whining beginning to give her a migraine, but he clung tightly to her arm that it was loosing circulation.

He struggled against her arm, narrowly avoiding a chimney as she landed on a rooftop, "SAKURA-SAAAAAAAN! AIIIIIIIEEEEE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? HOW ARE YOU EVEN DOING THIS? THIS IS SO DANGEROUS AND I DON'T WANNA DIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE—" _**THAT'S IT! **_

"SHUT UP!" She screeched, glaring at him through the corner of her eye, causing him to snap his mouth shut and stare at he fearfully, "Do you want to be late or not? Just be glad that I didn't leave you behind!" And with that, she concentrated on the up coming roofs, making sure that she would land safely. For a few moments, it was silent, and she wondered if she was too harsh again. _Damn it. _Cue the guilt that began to well up at the bottom of her stomach for the second time that day.

"Thank you..." She heard him murmur—even if the wind was rushing past her ears, she could still hear his sincere, soft, voice. She smiled to herself.

_Well, today started out pretty interesting. _Throughout the rest of the jumping, she couldn't help but feel smug at how silent it was, with a shaking Tsuna at her side.

Once they reached their destination, Sakura gracefully landed on the pavement in front of the school and glanced down at Tsuna, who was still clinging to her arm as if his life depended on it. She sweatdropped and tried to pull her arm from his hold, only for him to tighten his grip—her eyes twitched; this kid was annoying. Raising her fist slowly, she brought it down on the terrified kid's head, causing him to yelp in pain and let go of her arm.

She let out a small 'hmph' and crossed her arms, ignoring the brown-haired boy who was now cradling the bump on his head.

"Ouch..." She heard him whimper, and she turned to him with her emerald eyes blazing. Grabbing him by his collar, she narrowed her eyes and growled in his face, "If you tell _anyone_ of what happened this morning, I'll beat the crap out of you. Got it?" He nodded furiously and she smirked at him, releasing her grip and making him fall to the ground.

Although he agreed, she couldn't help but feel a bit paranoid about her secret getting out and the consequences that were to happen. Tsunade would surely have her ass, and she'd probably be taken in by the CSI for further investigation and experiments...but then again, this was _No-Good Tsuna _she was talking about; who in the world would believe _him_? _**SHANNARO!**_

A familiar chime rang in her ears, and she was immediately cut off from her musings. She gasped and growled, "Damn it! I wasn't fast enough!"

Because the other 14-year-old was in her class, she grabbed him by the arm and hurried through the gates, sharply turned towards the direction of their class—she froze, though, when she realized that they had ran into the tall, dark-haired prefect she was fearing this morning.

_Kyoya Hibari_...

There he was, only a few feet ahead of them with crossed arms, causing them to come to a halt. She gulped, unconsciously moving in front of Tsuna. The older boy stared at her for a few moments before shifting his gaze towards the boy behind her, who stammered out nervously, "H-Hibari-san...!"

"What are you two doing?" He asked, his voice monotone as he uncrossed his arms and gazed intently at the pink-haired girl. "The bell rang. You two should be in class at this moment."

She didn't say anything—the fear that was welling up in her stomach was paralyzing, but she forced herself to nod anyway, tightening her grip on the other boy's arm before bolting pass the prefect. She let out a breath she had been unknowingly holding; that boy had the power to beat her to a pulp—with or without chakra, she would not survive in a fight with him.

After a few minutes of non-stop running, the two finally stopped in front of the door to their class, trying to regain their breath. Sakura was the first to recover, and she adjusted her yellow messenger bag awkwardly. Tsuna sent her a grateful smile, "Thank you, Sakura-san." She rolled her eyes in an exasperated manner and was about to enter the door before she stopped, turning her head towards him with a frown on her face.

"Remember—don't tell _anyone_," she hissed, her brow furrowing. He nodded once more, his hands put up in defense and she snapped her head back to the door and opened it, walking inside the classroom that was in session.

The teacher turned to the two with wide eyes but then he crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl, reprimanding them, "Go to your seats and turn to page 157 in your text books." The pinkette made her way to her seat without a word, glancing at the brunette once more before taking her seat. A frown laced her pale features when she realized what the teacher was teaching; she _hated _polynomials.

* * *

><p>Waiting for the pink-haired middle-schooler to arrive, Tsunade sighed and took another sip from her bottle of sake, resting it near the legs of her chair afterwards. After a few moments of silence, she rested her elbows on her desk, entwining her fingers so that she could rest her chin on them. Shizune, who had been arranging files in the corner of the room, turned to her superior with worried, onyx eyes, "Tsunade-sama...where do you think she could be?"<p>

The said woman shook her head in disappointment, "I don't know—" As soon as the words left her mouth, the door to the small office slammed open, revealing a frazzled-looking and sweaty Sakura Haruno—still in the Namimori Middle School uniform—who tried her best to look decent for her master. Biting her lip, the pinkette bowed in respect, "I'm sorry, Tsunade-shishou, I lost track of time."

Tsunade, who was tired and slightly-drunk (_slightly, _only slightly), _did not _want to hear her student babble on and on about how she was so sorry for being late, and decided to slam her palms—which had unconsciously been chakra-laded (a bad habit, Tsunade deadpanned to herself)—on the surface of her desk, making it crumble into splinters at the harsh impact and causing the youngest girl in the room to flinch.

_First, _her student had the nerve to disobey her orders by endangering their identities and using chakra in public; _second_, the kid came late, expecting to come off scott-free with a lame excuse. The blonde scowled; she still had a way's to go before she could own up to being the _old Sakura Haruno_...

Without a word, the older woman walked passed the frigid pink-haired girl, who stood with wide emerald eyes and trembling shoulders—Tsunade inwardly smirked; knowing the old Sakura Haruno, this girl probably had the same tendencies to let her emotions show on her face unknowingly. The foot-steps echoing her's was the sign that the younger girl was following her, so she made her way to the training grounds—which was an abandoned warehouse right next to the clinic, cleaned and looking brand new just so that it wouldn't be torn down; it was the perfect place to train, with earth for the floor and no concrete on the ground what-so-ever.

Once, they were standing in the middle of the giant and empty place, Tsunade all but tore off her cloak and threw it to the side carelessly, cracking her knuckles—she knew Sakura would be scared out of her wits right now; she didn't need to face her just to know, she could practically hear her shaking in her boots. Without looking back, Tsunade placed a hand on her hips and pretended to look around the warehouse. "Sakura..."

She could feel her stiffen behind her.

"Is there a reason..." She looked over her shoulder to glance at the girl menacingly, "...as to why you used your chakra outside of training? Better yet, tell me why you used chakra just so you could get to school?"

At that, the girl opened her mouth to apologize once more, but no words came out, instead choosing to bow her head down in shame. A few more moments passed and Tsunade shook her head, her pigtails swaying along. Suddenly—at the speed of chakra-enhanced feet—the blonde rushed towards her, her fist pulled back into a punch. The younger girl's eyes widened before narrowly dodging a fist to the face, ducking then aiming a chakra-enhanced kick to the blonde's legs.

Jumping to avoid getting broken legs, Tsunade lifted her heel in mid-air and brought it down on Sakura's head—only for the said girl to hurriedly retreat to a somewhat-safe distance. The green heel made contact with the earth beneath them and in a semi-second the ground cracked and caused a miniature earthquake that tore open the floor. Chunks of dirt flew in the air, and through the corner of her eyes she saw a flash of pink—the next second, she caught a dainty fist without even turning her head. Before Sakura could take her fist back, Tsunade pulled her towards her, her free hand raised to elbow the girl.

Her elbow hit the junction between her shoulder blades and the pinkette grimaced in pain, letting out a sharp yelp. Then, the older woman's knee flew up and kneed the girl in the stomach, tossing her a few feet in front of her afterwards. She did not rest—as soon as she hit the ground, she pushed herself up to avoid getting hit by another chakra-laded heel, which created a small crater at the spot where the pinkette used to be.

Tsunade tensed when she realized the younger girl's chakra had disappeared. She crouched, prepared to attack as her eyes carefully searched the area for any sign of movement. She concentrated on her surroundings—not to her left, not to her right, not above, definitely not underground. After a few more minutes of silence, her eye twitched; this was getting too tiring—so she pulled her fist back and destroyed the earth once more.

_If you can't find them, punch the ground._

Her ears caught a small 'eep!' to her right and she wasted no time in bolting there.

Pink flashed before her eyes, and it was coming towards her quickly. She stood her ground—when the younger girl was close enough, she raised her hand and swatted her away as if she were a small fly, sending her crashing into the wall behind her. The harsh impact made it crack and the pinkette slowly slid down the wall, her body trembling.

Her sharp amber eyes gazed at the unmoving girl in front of her. Tsunade shook her head for the umpteenth time that day; _if she isn't going to get up, there's no point in continuing the lesson. _

She was about to call out to Shizune, who was watching nervously from the door of the warehouse, when she heard shuffling from the girl. Her amber eyes traveled once more to Sakura, who was now standing and gripping her bruised side while trying to catch her breath. Even with the cuts and wounds and forming-bruises that were littering her pale body, her eyes were fiery and lit up in determination, the girl's gaze set on Tsunade. She couldn't resist—she let the corners of her lips tug up into a small smirk.

Those were the same eyes the old Sakura Haruno had—the ones that she had the very day she had asked to be her apprentice, the ones that she had every strict practice, the ones that she had when she healed her patients.

Nostalgia over-took her, but she brushed it off; damn, she needed some sake right now. Crossing her arms, she beckoned the pink-haired girl to come at her once more—throughout the rest of the practice, the smirk stayed.

* * *

><p><em>Damn it, <em>Sakura thought to herself as she made her way to school the next day, hands wringing the braclets around her wrists—_the dreaded chakra restraints_. Her wounds (which consisted of three cracked ribs, a swollen eye, and multiple cuts and bruises) were healed nicely thanks to Shizune, but she was quickly given a strict reprimand from Tsunade then given the bracelets as punishment.

Adjusting her yellow messenger bag to her shoulders, she was too self-indulged at the moment to notice the shadows that followed her a few feet away, along with the heavy footsteps that echoed her's.

Because of her mistake of using chakra outside of training, she was prohibited of using her it for two weeks; sure, it didn't sound as bad, but training with Tsunade usually _required _chakra to actually to damage—so, basically, without it, she was screwed when she faced against the older woman. Not only that, but now she's be two weeks behind in her medical training.

She also had to wear that _hideous_ bracelet—thick and brown, it clashed with her eyes. She _hated_ brown.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her to the side roughly, her arms and legs quickly tied then being thrown over someone's shoulder. The only thing she could get out was a loud yell of, "What the he—" before another hand covered her mouth and gagged her with duct tape; thoughts were frantically running through her mind, trying to find ways of escaping—most of them involved using her chakra...and the only thing she could hope for now was for someone to see her.

Squirming in the ropes, she did her best to try and get the rope loose—if she had her chakra, she wouldn't even be in this mess. She tried desperately to see where the person was taking her only to be sharply smacked across the face by some whore-ish looking woman who walked next to the person carrying her; the woman scowled down at her and flipped her stringy hair over her shoulder smugly, "Quit moving, girlie, of I'll make sure your pretty little face'll get scarred."

Her words, though, did not affect her, as the pinkette's eyes, focused on the ground, her brow furrowed in irritation and panic. _Damn it..._she inwardly growled, squirming uncomfortably underneath the tightly-knotted ropes—another hard smack was sent her way courtesy of the older woman, who growled out threateningly with her irritatingly nasally voice, "I _said_, you dumb bitch, to stop moving! It's bad enough I'm hungover, and your stupid swaying pink hair is giving me a freakin' migraine."

The pinkette glared at the woman, but her shut in pain when the said woman roughly grabbed her by her hair and lifted her head up to look her straight in the eyes; _**what a waste of a good moment to spit in her face, SHANNARO!**_ Emerald eyes widened when she realized a knife was being held at her throat, but her feisty facade was still put up. The two only woman stared each other down for a few minutes before the elder snorted, pulling back her knife and roughly throwing Sakura's head back down. "Stupid little bitch."

Ignoring the insult, she weakly lifted her head up to look at her surroundings—only to find herself in a near-dark alley way which she was unfamiliar with. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes; damn it all, why do stupid things have to happen to her? At the end of the alleyway of where they had entered, hope had manifested in the form of a boy. Emerald eyes widened.

_Hope_—in the form of _Tsunayoshi Sawada_. She watched with wide, terrified and desperate eyes as the said boy's mouth moved, his face horrified and pale as he turned his head from left to right, probably looking for someone to help. Her heart was beating in her chest a million miles a minute; what the hell was that kid doing? _Wasn't he going to help her? _

_**HELP ME, YOU STUPID DUMBASS!**_

Her mental raging was cut off when she was thrown onto the ground and in front of people she couldn't recognized—thugs littered with scars and tattoos and facial hair, but amongst the tall, overly-muscular people was a stout man two heads shorter than everyone else, wearing rings, a faux fur coat, black trousers and black leather boots, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. She stole a quick glance at the entrance of the alleyway only to find Tsuna gone. Hopefully he had gone for help—

"So, little girl," the stout man's voice brought her back to her current situation and her furious gaze was now directed at him, jaw clenching and hands clenched into fists behind her. He stared down at her with a smirk, "I heard you've got connections to Tsunade, the Slug Princess—or whatever the fuck she calls herself these days."

Her eyes widened a bit before she narrowed them; what would they have to do with Tsunade? Her question was answered, though, by the only female in their group, who wrapped her arms around the shorter person's neck and snuggled into the fur, "She owes my lovey-kin some money, and that money was supposed to go to my new boob-job!"

"Ah...yes. Your boob-job." The man smirked, pushing his sunglasses farther up his nose. "Now, little girl, where is she? I need to have a little..._talk_...about her large debt."

Sakura didn't reply—instead, she kept her cold gaze on the wall behind them, silently praying to the Heavens above to send her sign that she'd be saved. The stinging pain of the duct tape being ripped through her mouth made her eyes tear a bit, and the thug responsible for it tossed the grey adhesive aside before bending down to grab her by the hair.

"Boss asked you a question, girlie, so you better answer—" He was met with spit to his face, her emerald eyes heated and glaring at everyone in front of her. The thug swore loudly, wiping off her spit with the collar of his shirt before roughly punching her in the face, letting her drop onto the wet concrete with an audible 'thump.' "Stupid bitch! You'll pay for that!"

Before he could do anything else, the short leader raised his hand, stepping towards the glaring girl, "Well, girlie, are you going to tell me where that conniving bitch is, or what?" Her response was instantaneous.

"**LIKE HELL I WOULD!**"She roared from her place on the ground, squirming desperately in the binds.

These _bastards _were so damn _lucky _she didn't have her chakra! If it weren't for those stupid bracelets, she would have ripped the stupid ropes to shreds and pummeled their face-lifted faces and tummy-tucked bodies into piles of dusts!

_How dare they insult her master! _

Dammit all to hell, she was just so freaking _pissed _right now; so, stubborn Sakura decided to chalk up some of her bloody spit—oh, and she made sure it was a good _loogie_—and spat on the man's face. Her aim was perfect; it hit him smack-dab in his open mouth.

That was all she remembered before her mind numbed out. She distantly heard angry shouts and insulting comments and commands being barked out, but all her senses were drowned out by the intense pain of kicks, punches, shoves, and being thrown against the brick walls. Her eyes cringed, jaw clenched tightly, bracing herself for each and every hit coming her way.

She could feel bruises forming. She could feel the loss of brain cells. She could feel bones cracking.

She felt each and every hit, each and every wound that was being inflicted upon her. And she couldn't do anything about it.

_D...Dammit..._She gazed helplessly at the wet alleyway floor, vision blocked by her pink locks—everything was beginning to fade to black, and soon, their kicks and punches just seemed to add to the numbness that was currently over-taking her body. Her eyes closed slowly.

The last thing she heard before going unconscious was a distant and some-what familiar battle cry, _"SAKURA-SAN!"_

* * *

><p><em>I'm gonna be late again! <em>With wide and worried eyes, Tsuna ran as fast as he could while chewing on his toast, one hand gripping tightly onto his bag and the other holding onto the crunchy bread. Thoughts were running through his head as he finished the rest of his toast; it was the second time he had woke up late, and if he didn't hurry up. he'd have to face Hibari-san once more. Once was enough for him, but twice?

_That would probably mean death._

Quickly turning a corner, he noticed something pink flash in the corners of his eyes—the first thing that popped into his mind was a certain short-tempered pink-haired girl. He shook it off, though. From what he saw yesterday, she probably wasn't going to go to school late, with her strange _super powers_ and what not. His mind drifted back to the previous day's events—_what was that_?

His brow furrowed; no normal human being could jump roofs like that unless they were some human-kangaroo hybrid—she seemed normal...but the only thing that wasn't normal about her was the fact that her feet were glowing green.

_They were glowing green. _

Maybe she was a super-saiyan? He inwardly sweatdropped—_or not_. What ever she was, though, was a secret she probably wasn't willing to tell. And he was fine with that—she had a nasty temper and a powerful punch; those two things were never a good combination, and should he be ever get caught snooping around in her personal life, she'd probably beat him to death.

His musings were cut off by the sounds of loud footsteps and muffling sounds. As he passed a nearby alleyway, something pink caught his eye once more—the first thing that popped into his mind again was _Sakura Haruno_; skidding to a stop, he tip toed to the alleyway and peeked over the side only to see the backs of a buff man and a woman wearing a mini skirt to short for public. On the buff man's shoulder was something pink—it lifted his head to reveal _Sakura Haruno_, her wide emerald eyes brimming with tears, duct tape taped over her mouth, tied up and unable to move.

Their eyes met.

"Sa...Sakura-san...!" Panic was beginning to well up inside him, with his heart beating against his rib cage at a speed he couldn't comprehend. His hazel eyes were wide and his shoulders shook—_what could he do? _He looked around, eyes searching for someone—_anyone_—that could help her.

"What are you going to do, Tsunayoshi Sawada?"

He jumped at the sound of his name, which was uttered by an unfamiliar baby-ish voice. Looking around wildly for the source of his name, he nearly blanched when he found a baby—not even knee-height—standing behind him, wearing a black fedora and a black and orange business suit, a green lizard perching itself on the back of his hand. He stared at the baby incredulously, "W-Who—"

"Are you going to save her?" His incredulous gaze remained until he heard grunts coming from the alleyway. He peeked from the entrance and covered his mouth in horror at the sight of a group of thugs beating up a certain girl on the ground, who was still bound up by ropes and who's pink hair was now dirtied from the wet floor. His stomach dropped—_was _he going to save her?

"I...I..." He stammered, his wide-eyed gaze turning back to the baby standing behind him, "I can't save her—I won't be able to!" He whispered frantically, glancing back and forth between the crowd and the baby. The baby stared back at him, "Why?"

Before Tsuna could answer back, the baby beat him to it, "Is it because you're a Loser? Because you can't even do a full-chin up? Is it because you doubt yourself? You're Loser Tsuna—once a loser, always a loser."

_What did he say? He didn't know _anything! At that statement, he glared at the baby and took a threatening step forward but the baby stood his ground, calmly staring back at the aggravated boy, "Shut up! I can't do it because it'd be a waste of time and breathe!" In a softer tone, he whispered to himself with a bittersweet tone, "I can't do anything...if I wasn't such a loser, I'd save her..."

_Click. _"Then die once."

The green gun that was pointed at him made his blood run cold, and he took an involuntary step back, "W-W-What are you—"

The baby pulled the trigger—the red bullet that had been shot from his pistol hit him directly in the middle of his forehead, sending him careening backwards and making him loose his balance. _He was dying, then. _The last thing he felt was his stomach curling in regret and remorse and the back of his head making contact with the concrete floor.

_I'm leaving this world._

_The only thing I hope for is that Sakura-san would make it out alive_—

_But I knew...that if my life depended on it, I could have saved her._

_If I risked my life, I could have saved her's._

The numb-ness of death did not last long—suddenly, he felt _very_ rejuvenated. Quickly rising up from his slump on the floor, he looked into thin air with his dilated pupils blazing in fiery determination as he clenched his fists tightly, _"Re-Born!"_ He hadn't realized that his clothes had burnt off of his body (which left him in his sky blue Doraemon boxers), or the orange flame that blazed on his forehead.

"I'll save Sakura Haruno even if it kills me!" With that, he quickly sped off into the alley, leaving a trail of dust behind him, towards the large group of people that crowded around the unmoving lump on the floor. Through his hyper-active state, he stared at her; _she wasn't moving, she wasn't moving, she wasn't moving_—

_"SAKURA-SAN!" _

Blinded by fury, he punched the nearest thug—some odd-faced man wearing a tank top and short-shorts—and sent him flying into a few other thugs. The one he had punched was knocked out-cold. Using everyone's stupor as an advantage, he kicked and punched a few more before they snapped out of their dazed state, someone shouting orders to beat him up while the rest of the thugs let out a battle cry.

One tried to grab him from behind, but he jumped out of the way and landed behind him, landing a kick to the side of the man's head and sending his face to the brick wall beside him. Two men ran towards him, their fists pulled back to punch the living daylights out of them. Side-stepping, he kicked their legs and sent them tumbling into each other.

A few more minutes of punching, kicking, kneeing, elbowing, and head-butting, Tsuna had taken out all of the thugs—they were all on the floor either unconscious or cradling their wounds.

He snapped his head in the direction of the shaking mini-skirt-wearing woman and the stout man, and growled at them. Immediately, they bolted off towards the other end of the alley-way while screaming their heads off and sending frantic apologies towards the boxer-clad boy. Turning away, he quickly bolted over to Sakura's bound form and broke through the ropes, then placing his arms behind her back and knees. Steadying her in his arms, he suddenly felt the rejuvenation die away—the flame disappeared from his forehead completely.

_I beat these people up! _His wide eyes analyzed each and every body on the ground in complete and utter terror. His epiphany did not last long, however—his eyes landed on the bloodied and beaten form he was carrying and gasped out, "S-Sakura-san!"

He could feel the small rise and fall of her chest against his, and a slight feeling of relief washed over him—only to have it replaced with concern and panic. "She needs to go to the hospital!"

_But the nearest hospital was nearly half-a-mile away_. He didn't have his cell phone to call them, nor would he make it there by foot. People would think wrong if he were to call for help in the streets, and going back to school was a bad choice, too. His already-stressed out mind was racing with so many thoughts at the moment, and the only thing he could do was stare in horror at the unconscious girl in his arms. He mentally blanched; _what the heck was he supposed to do?_

"Take her to the Namimori Clinic."

His head snapped up towards the direction of the voice, only to find the same baby, standing at the other end of the alleyway with the green lizard resting on the tip of his black fedora. His brow furrowed in confusion; the Namimori clinic was only a few blocks away, but he didn't think they were professional enough for Sakura's serious injuries...but it was the closest thing to the hospital and _dang it_, he wasn't going to let her die.

Sharply nodding his head towards the baby, he bolted out of the alleyway and into the empty streets, turning the corner and towards the Namimori Clinic. Sure, he received a few stares and scrunched up faces, but he didn't care—he needed to get her to safety. After ten more minutes of running and avoiding slow walkers on the street, he finally reached the small clinic.

All but kicking open the door, he searched the room for someone—luckily, there weren't any others there at the moment—and found a dark-haired nurse behind a desk near the back. She had been scribbling some notes on a few papers but her head immediately snapped up towards him. Not waiting for her to comment on either the girl in his arms or his Doraemon boxers (_hopefully no one from school saw him..._), he bolted towards her, his face twisted in concern and panic.

"Help her, please! She was beaten up!" The dark-haired nurse wasted no time, bustling out of her chair and gesturing him to follow her. He complied quickly and followed her into a hallway with five open doors—she led him into the first one, and he couldn't help but notice how her eyes widened when he passed her. Once he carefully laid her on the bed, she was at his side, brushing away the hair that stuck to her face.

"O-Oh god," she whispered from beside him, her voice broken and laced with worry, "Sakura..." His eyes widened; _how did she know Sakura-san?_

He decided not to question it, instead choosing to grab hold of the unconscious girl's hand. _Sakura-san...don't die. _He hadn't noticed the nurse had disappeared—his eyes were solely focused on the pinkette, brow crinkled in worry. It was silent—suddenly, a loud crash was heard a few doors down and he jumped in surprise; the crash was followed by a woman's voice, who bellowed, "SAKURA IS _WHAT_?"

He stared at the doorway with scared eyes, one hand on his wildly beating heart while the other still clutched onto Sakura's limp hand. A slam was heard, then the loud 'clik! clak!' of heels on the floor—they were coming closer, closer, and louder each second...a blonde-haired woman appeared and walked through the threshold. He couldn't help but blush at the sight of her..._over-developed chest_ and focused his gaze on her scowling and glaring face—

"Get out," she said, her voice low as her amber eyes narrowed at him dangerously. Gulping and fearing for his life, he nodded hesitantly and hurried out of the room, glancing back at the pinkette before stopping in the hallway. The dark-haired nurse from before passed him with a weak smile and handed him a white doctor's robe, jostling back into the room where the blonde began to bark orders.

The door closed, leaving Tsuna to stare dumbly at the white clothing in his hand. _Why did she give me this robe? It's not like I'm need it_—

His cheeks heated up once more; he looked down and nearly groaned, "I-I look like such a pervert..." He was still in his boxers! With an embarrassed blush, he slipped into the coat and wrapped it around his semi-exposed form.

Today was just _not _his day.

* * *

><p><em>She felt like crap.<em>

For the first time in hours, Sakura opened her blood shot and tired eyes to the world—only to see white all around her. The first thing that popped up in her mind was that she was _dead_, and she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. Something rough made contact with the skin under her eyes and she pulled her hand away from her face to see bandages. She nearly blanched; _so she wasn't dead! _She could almost cry, but she could do that it secret later—she needed to know where the heck she was first.

Her body felt heavy and weird, but she brushed it off and pushed herself into an upwards sitting position; she looked around (_**why the heck is it so freaking blurry?**_) and—_what the heck? _She was at Namimori Clinic? Her mind was racing with questions at the moment. _Who brought her here? Why was she here? Why not the hospital? Why did it feel like someone was holding her hand?_

Snapping out of her train of thoughts, she weakly turned her head to her right side—low and behold, there was a hand clutching onto her's as if there was no tomorrow. Unused to such contact, her face heated up, rubbing her eyes to get a better look at who the perpetrator was. Her eyes traveled from the hand, to white sleeves, and to the sleeping face of Tsunayoshi Sawada, who was sleeping soundly in the chair next to her, head resting on the bed while drool pooled next to his mouth; light snores emitted from his unmoving form. Her eye twitched; _geeze, that's gross._

Gently prying her hand out of his grip, she pulled the blankets off of her—she realized someone had changed her into a white hospital gown and out of her tattered school uniform—and analyzed her wounds after lifting her gown up—or what used to be her wounds. Although her body felt disoriented and somewhat rusty, her abdomen and chest were wrapped in clean bandages, along with her right bicep, left wrist, and her right calf. _They did a number on her_.

After putting the fabric down, she laid back down on the bed and sighed, running a hand through her dirty and tangled hair. Her weary emerald eyes traveled back to the sleeping boy next to her; _why was he here? _She vaguely remembered seeing him at the alleyway, but he had disappeared soon after. She inwardly scoffed; _he probably ran off. _But something in the back of her mind nagged her that he had done the exact opposite. But it was ludicrous, really: No Good Tsuna, beating up a group of thugs just to _save_ her? The boy couldn't even do _push-ups!_

"So you're awake?" Ripping her gaze from him, she spotted Tsunade—dressed in her usual robe, top, pants and heeled sandals—standing at the doorway of the room, her arms crossed and her amber eyes focused on her. She nodded weakly.

"Tsunade-shishou," she spoke, her voice feeling raspy and hoarse, "How did I get here...?" Her voice trailed off, her eyes suddenly finding the ground interesting.

"The kid brought you here." Her eyes widened and she once more found her eyes locked onto the older woman in incredulity; _he saved her? _She, at the moment, was mind-freaked. He saved her life—he_ actually _saved her. Her chest erupted in a warm feeling, and she turned her gaze towards him, her emerald eyes softening. _He risked his life for her. _Tsunade continued, "He told me you were getting beat up by a group of people."

Sakura nodded, "They were asking for your whereabouts, demanding for their money." From the corner of her eye, the older woman's shoulders tensed, "I didn't tell them, so they began to beat me until I gave the information." After that, the room went silent. She fidgeted awkwardly in the tense air; why hadn't she said anything? Was she mad at her? Did she disappoint her? Suddenly, the 'clik! clak!' of the older woman's heels made her tense.

Arms wrapped around her form, and she found herself in the valley of the other's breasts. Looking up, she pursed her lips, "Uh...Tsunade-shisou—"

"I'm sorry."

Emerald eyes widened, and she tilted her head to the side in confusion. The blonde continued with rueful eyes (_are those tears?_),"You nearly died. If I hadn't given you the chakra restraints, you wouldn't have been in that situation." Sakura inwardly smiled; she would have made her master proud and would have beat the crap out of the stout man and his evil cronies..._especially that fake woman with the fake boobs. _Hopefully Tsuna had done the job for her.

"It's alright, shishou. I'm fine now, really!" She reassured, a grin reaching her features as she patted the blonde's back comfortingly, and the elder woman returned her grin with a smile of her own which seemed..._strained and broken? _She was confused; she was alright, why would she be so emotional?

"I'm glad," she said softly as she pulled away from the pinkette, patting her head lovingly—though, Sakura couldn't help but gulp when she saw the mischievous glint in Tsunade's amber eyes. Thrusting her thumb in the direction of the sleeping brunette, her master smirked, "So is he your boyfriend, or something?"

_...boyfriend?_

She choked on her spit; did she just imply that they were—oh, that was just so..._weird! _Feeling her face heat up, she nearly flinched away from her master, a hand in front of her dropped jaw while she stared at her master with wide eyes, "A-Are you joking? O-Of course not! He's not my boyfrie—"

"...Sakura-san?" _What a perfect time to wake up! __**SHANNARO! **_She felt her eye twitch and she snapped her head in the direction of stirring boy. The said boy lifted his head from the bed sheets and rubbed his droopy eyes with the back of his hand. Her lips pursed; she could practically see her master smirking next to her.

As if he finally realized where he was, his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet—the sudden movement made her jump also; the robe he had been wearing had slipped from his grip and exposed his light blue boxer shorts. Her nostrils flared and her face began to heat up from the sight of Doraemon, "Y-You..."

Noticing his robe, he immediately yelped and struggled to hide himself, "S-S-Sakura-san! It's not what you think—" He shut up, probably noticing how red her face must be.

Cracking her knuckles, she growled at him—with the _stupid_ blush still on her face—and cocked her fist back.

_"You..." _He gulped. _**HE WAS **_**SO**_** DONE FOR, SHANNAROOOOOOO!**_

_"...PERVERT!"_

Of course, she made sure she hadn't sent any chakra to her fist now that the ugly restraints were gone (_thank god!)_. But she smugly noted that her punch sent him twirling a few times before falling to the floor in a daze. _That was sure to leave a mark. _She sat up, dangling her legs at the edge of the bed until the pads of her feet reached the floor and shakily walked towards his trembling form. His eyes followed her every move, and she could have laughed—he looked like he was about to piss himself or something!

She leaned over him and offered her hand—resisting the urge to roll her eyes when he flinched away—with a small smile on her face, "C' mon, Tsuna."

His eyes widened a bit (probably because of what she called him; she admitted that even _she _was a bit surprised by her own actions) before taking her hand. Slowly but surely, the corners of his lips twitched upwards into a somewhat-hesitant smile of his own. As soon as he was on his feet, she pulled him towards her and into her arms, wrapping them around his form—at first, he tensed under her touch, his smile faltering in surprise.

"Thank you, Tsuna." She whispered, resting her chin on his bare shoulder. After the way she treated him—which was, she remembered shamefully, rude—the guilt welled up in the pit of her stomach, making her feel sorry for the boy. He had done nothing wrong to her and she had only been mean to him in the beginning because she...well, she didn't even _talk _to him before the day before.

But now here she was, hugging him and thanking him (and probably making him feel uncomfortable with her nasty mood-swings and what not) because _he saved her life_. Her eyes began to burn with unshed tears, and she unconsciously pulled him closer and rested her forehead against his shoulder, "T-Thank you."

He stayed tensed, and she was secretly beginning to get worried with his lack of reaction and was mentally debating on whether or not she should let go, when she felt him relax in her hold, his arms slowly snaking around her form; relief washed over her. She could practically _hear _the smile in his voice when he spoke out.

"No problem, Sakura-chan." Her lips tugged upwards while her face was buried in his shoulder. _Thank you for everything._

* * *

><p>The two teens were so absorbed in their embrace that they failed to notice a certain smirking blonde, who silently stalked out of the room with the full-intention of not disturbing their...<em>precious moment<em>.

* * *

><p>"So, you're the Legendary Slug Princess Tsunade, one of the Legendary Sannin—I've only heard rumors of your strength and amazing healing abilities." Amber orbs locked onto big doe eyes. She leaned back in her swivel chair and propped her legs up on her newly-bought desk.<p>

"You're a hitman." A statement.

"And you're the one who saved hundreds of the injured at your 'neutral grounds' clinic back in Italy. Is your alliance with the Vongola is still intact?"

"Yes." Her tone was sharp, but her gaze was sharper. "What are you doing in Namimori?"

The green lizard on his hat crawled to his hand, "I've been sent here by Vongola XI to train the tenth generation boss—the boy earlier, who brought your apprentice here."

"Him, eh? He doesn't seem like it."

"He will be once I tutor him."

"And I'm guessing that you want me to be allied to him, too, should he create a family of his own." She leaned forward and stared intently at the baby in front of her.

"That would be most helpful."

"...Fine." She sighed and closed her eyes, only to open them again to questioningly glance at the baby, "And who are you?"

He gave her a small wave, "I'm the Home Tutor Hitman, Reborn." And with that, he left her office after bidding a small good-bye—she had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last she saw of him.

Little did she know, she was absolutely right.

* * *

><p><em>Holy balls, this was a freaking pain in the ass to write. BUT I'M STILL PROUD OF THIS; this—hands down—has to be the longest thing I ever wrote in my entire life. My brain at the moment is shriveled up due to the sheer length. I'm inwardly patting myself on the back for actually finishing the first chapter.<em>

_A few notes: the reason why Tsunade kept refferring to 'Old Sakura Haruno' will be explained in the next few chapters. If you haven't noticed, the bold when it's in Sakura's point of view is Inner Sakura—I know some people like the fact that she can interact with herself, but to be honest I've never seen Sakura and her Inner interact with each other in the anime/manga and that Inner only voiced Sakura's true opinions, so I'm going to try and stick with the most accurate things as possible (and should anything be inaccurate, please tell me~). Also, I like the dash sign, :L_

_ON A MORE IMPORTANT NOTE, trying to write people in character was so hard for me...so yeah, please tell me if anyone is OOC so that I can fix it—as I said before, I'm trying to make the story as accurate as possible, so your help will be greatly appreciated._

_ON A MORE IMPORTANT IMPORTANT NOTE, I don't really know what the pairing is. Really, :C so sorry if there's not as much romance in the up-coming chapters.  
><em>

_ON A MORE IMPORTANT NOTE OF IMPORTANCE, I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter, :) I don't really know how long the next chapter will take me, but just keep on the look-out! Thanks!_

(I don't own Naruto, Katekyo Hitman Reborn, or any other references made in this story—i.e. the term 'super saiyan'—I simply make fanfiction for them.)**  
><strong>


	2. things are never the same

_"After what happened earlier, I cannot allow you to walk around un-armed. Therefore, I am granting you the pleasure of using your chakra outside of practice_ only if _you refrain yourself from using it recklessly. Am I clear?"_

_**YOU WERE AS CLEAR AS DAY, MASTER! **_With the previous day's events temporarily forgotten, Sakura made her way onto the empty street nearly skipping in happiness; _she was allowed to us her chakra, she was allowed to use her chakra, she was allowed to use her chakra~ _Humming to herself, she adjusted the yellow messenger bag on her shoulder so that it wouldn't bother her when she walked. Her wounds had healed very nicely courtesy of Tsunade and Shizune, as she was now bruise-less and feeling better than ever.

As for Tsuna, she considered herself in debt to him for saving her life—and considered him as the first _real _friend she ever made while at Namimori. Sure, she was known through out the school as possibly the smartest girl—or, better yet, the smartest _student _(_**oh yeah, I rule!**_)—but she never really bothered talking to anyone.

She admitted she was too focused on balancing her school work, home life, and training to actually spend time with others; also, no one really bothered talking to her—they just left her alone and let her keep to herself. Sure, a few greeted her with, "Hello, Sakura-san!" but other than that, they never bothered with anything else...besides asking for help with class work, of course.

_They probably don't want to socialize with some pink-haired weirdo_. Bitter feelings from the past began to resurface—_she was over it, she was over that, she'd been there and she never ever wanted to go through that again. _Her thoughts strayed over to her earlier years—images of a timid 8-year-old girl with pink hair and green eyes, crying alone in the park while hiding from bullies who threw rocks at her and made her childhood hell, and giving a reason to detest people who demean others for their own satisfaction.

But she was over that and she never wanted to think about it. She _wasn't_ a sniveling cry baby, for _pete's sakes_...

Her whole front side came in contact with something sturdy and covered in fabric, causing her to snap out of her day dreaming and blink in confusion. Letting out a confused, "Eh?" she looked up, only to come face to face with someone's shoulder; her face immediately heated up in embarrassment at her own actions. She stepped back to bow in apology, not bothering to see the person she bumped into, "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"Oi, watch where you're going." She would've smiled at him and went along on her merry way...if he hadn't been glaring at her.

_**Well, you didn't have to sound like such a jerk about it! **_Her eye twitched, lips pursing. She straightened her back and placed her hands on her hips, sending an irritated glance at him—and it was only then when she noticed how he looked like. To say she wasn't impressed was a lie.

Chin-length _silver_ (_what a ridiculous color..._well, she had pink hair—she shouldn't be talking) hair that was spiky at the edges, stormy green eyes, un-blemished skin—this guy would've been on her top-ten-cute-guys list if it wasn't for that angry scowl lacing his features. She took notice of his choice of clothing; a white unbuttoned collared shirt over a red tee, with dark blue jeans and black sneakers—she assumed he was a 'rebel' or whatever they called themselves these days with all the bracelets, black wristbands, necklaces, chains and rings he wore.

_**He's sooooo hot~ **_She shook off her thoughts and continued to glare at him, who scowled with equal—or possibly more—contempt at her. Her lips pulled back into a snarl, "You don't have to be so rude, you know!" _**YOU DROOL-WORTHY JERK!**_

Oh, how she wanted to _punch _that scowl off of his face—if not for the 'no recklessness' rule about using her chakra, she would've gave him a good kick between the legs. So, for her sake—and his sake of keeping his man hood—she gave a loud huff before storming off, walking passed the still-scowling boy (_geeze, his face could get stuck like that_) with her arms crossed. She heard him mutter to himself quite loudly ("Stupid woman...") and tried her best to not stomp over there and _turn him into a freaking girl_.

_You know what? __**HE'S NOT WORTH MY TIME! **_With that thought, she stormed her way to school with a dark aura and unconsciously began to glare at everyone and everything. That morning, she secretly wondered why no one bothered saying hi to her—she wondered even more of why people ran when they saw her. She was already at the gates, but something in the sky caught her vision; something humanoid, with a scrawny body, blue shorts, and brown hair...

What the..._was his hair on fire?_

She squinted her eyes for a better look—but they widened to the size of dinner plates when she realized what it actually was. _Tsuna? __**HOLY COW**_—

She immediately sprinted to where he was going to land, eyes focused on his nearing form, but unfortunately she bumped into someone for the second time that day. Her head snapped to her right and she quickly apologized to the person. Her eyes lit up in slight recognition and she bowed, "Sorry, Mochida-senpai!" A familiar orange-haired girl stood next to him with a small smile gracing her lips; the school's idol, Kyoko Sasagawa.

If the orange-haired girl wasn't so nice, Sakura would've considered her an enemy; with those good looks and reputation, she could take advantage of that and manipulate people...but she was just being paranoid about it so she left it alone—and plus, Kyoko was...well, _Kyoko_: the girl was too nice for her own good. And so, being respectful—she honestly liked her, she really did—and good-hearted, the pinkette beamed at the other girl, "Good morning, Kyoko-san."

The said girl waved, her eyes twinkling with mirth, "Good morning, Sakura-san." The pinkette dully noted how Mochida just stood at the side, giving her an irritated look (_probably pissed because he missed his chance at hitting on Kyoko_, she deadpanned to herself) but brushed it off, turning her eyes up at the sky and searching for the flying humanoid named Tsuna.

Left and right she searched, but for some odd reason she didn't see him...but...he couldn't just disappear into thin air, could he? She inwardly shook her head; _that wasn't logical_. Her brow furrowed in frustration. _Just where the heck was he_—

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" A battle cry was shouted from above her. She didn't even have time to lift her head up to see what had caused that sound before she was literally blown away by a blur of brown, orange and blue. The only thing she registered was that she was flying in the air and—_did she just fly over the school gate? _

She was about to carefully land herself on the ground (and, possibly, show off some of her ninja reflexes to some students [_**SHANNARO!**_]) when she felt something warm and clothed gently come in contact with her back and under her knees. Distant shouts of, "Yeah, that's our baseball star!" and, "Kyaaa, Yamamoto-kun, you're so cool!" rang in her ears.

She blinked, confused and disoriented, and looked up slowly—only to see the smiling face of the school's base ball star, Takeshi Yamamoto, who was fully-dressed in his baseball uniform; she concluded to herself that he had just finished with practice and was now walking around school campus, saving pink-haired girls who mysteriously fell from the sky. Go figure.

"Are you alright, Sakura?" She nodded, a bit dazed at what was currently happening. Yamamoto had...caught her? Although, the way he held her was something in every girl's fantasy...the typical school girl, being carried bridal-style by someone popular after nearly falling to her death?

If she was still a hormonal little girl (well, she still _was_, it was just that she had the self-control to resist squealing like some babbling baboon...she had to admit, though, the boy was a looker), she would've been all over him with grateful kisses and date offers by now—but _no_, she was not 12, she was better than that. So, with an embarrassed blush dusting her pale cheeks (hey, the fact that he was _carrying her _in such a way still made her blush, 12 or not), she awkwardly fixed her school uniform after he gently let her stand, and bowed in gratefulness, "Thank you, Yamamoto-kun, for saving me."

He let out a laugh and beamed at her, "No problem! Be careful next time, alright? I might not be there to save you!" _**He can carry me **_**any **_**day! **_With her blush becoming a deeper red, she giggled along with him; how could she _not? _His smile was contagious—she quieted down, though, once she heard Mochida yell at someone nearby, "Why you...how dare you make Kyoko cry—in your _boxers,_ no less! Damn perverted punk!" Her ears had caught the sound of someone's fist coming in contact with something fleshy, then followed by the sound of someone hitting the pavement.

Bowing once more to Yamamoto, she ran off towards the gates and passed a fuming Mochida (man, she could practically see the steam puffing out of his ears); her eyes spotted Tsuna, who was on the ground looking around in a daze—albeit, a bit scared—and assumed he was the one that had gotten punched. She was crouching at his side in the next moment (_oh, geeze, he was in his boxers again...don't look Sakura, don't look_), inspecting his face with concerned emerald orbs, "Tsuna, are you alright?"

"Yeah...my cheek hurts a bit, but other than that, I'm fine..." But she knew things weren't fine from the look in his eyes. Not wanting to stress the boy any further, she gently cupped his red cheek, making the brunette's eyes widen and sending a small blush to his cheeks, "Sakura-chan, what are you doing?"

"Shut up," she murmured, secretly sending chakra to her palm—the effect was instantaneous, as he shut his mouth, his eye brows shooting up to his hairlines; she felt him lean into her touch and she smiled to herself in self-satisfaction. He was probably getting that warm feeling from the chakra. She inwardly gave herself a pat on the back; _**oh yeah, I'm getting better at using medical ninjutsu! **_Once she was done, she stood up and placed her hands on her hips, a smug expression lacing her features.

"Well? Feeling better?"

Smiling in amusement, she watched silently as he gave his cheek a few test pokes; his expression changed to that of a kid seeing magic tricks a few moments after, and he turned to her with his brown eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. "How did you do it?"

"Secret!" She winked playfully, sticking her tongue out before offering her hand to help him off the ground. With a grateful and somewhat dejected smile, he stood up, dusting his legs off and awkwardly shifting his feet; she sweatdropped—he was still in his boxers...and so, she turned her head to the side as to not make him flustered and what not. It was only then that she noticed the gates were empty, leaving only her and Tsuna alone and in front of the school.

Remembering seeing him in the sky with his...uh, hair on fire (but there was no evidence of his hair being scorched, weirdly), she turned her head back to him with a slender pink eye brow raised, "Tsuna, what happened to you? I mean, I saw you in the sky earlier—is that why Mochida-senpai punched you?"

At that, his shoulders sagged and he began to scratch the back of his nervously, "To be honest, even _I _don't know what happened to me!" Biting the insides of her cheek, she resisted the urge to bonk him over the head when he slumped to the ground, running his hands through his spiky brown hair and muttering to himself, "M-My life is over!"

"Your life has just begun, Tsuna." Sakura's head veered towards the sky to find the source of the voice, which was—she noted in confusion—squeaky and baby-ish. And when she looked at the sky, she expected to see the never-ending blue and maybe a few birds—_not some baby floating down on a green parachute. _She could feel her eyes bulge out of their sockets at the sheer absurdity of it; a mere baby (probably not even the age of 2!) able to form coherent sentences and land perfectly on the ground—_how is he able to stand up? _Weren't babies only supposed to crawl at that age?

With her head boggling with too many questions to count, she watched in amazement as the baby landed on the ground—also dropping a suitecase and folded spare clothes for Tsuna—his green parachute _transforming into a lizard. _A lizard, that sat looking cute on his hat.

She was seriously doubting whether or not the whole day was a dream.

Much to her chagrin, the baby spoke again, "The effects of the Deathperation shot, the red bullet you were shot with, kills you—it then revives you, making you ready to die for the thing you regretted before you died. Unfortunately, after 5 minutes, the effect wears off."

The pinkette's head tilted to the side in confusion; what was up with this baby? She cautiously eyed the red bullet in his little hands—what the hell was he doing with a gun? Through the corners of her eyes, the boxer-clad teen's brow furrowed, "W-What if...I didn't have any regrets?"

"I'm a hitman." Such a simple statement, yet something so simple had elicited such tremendous responses—for one, Sakura's jaw dropped (_it felt as if she had dislocated it_) and her eyes bulged out of their sockets once more; Tsuna, on the other hand, bursted out with his face twisted in horror, "You mean I'd _die_?"

There was a small pause—with the baby staring intently at the brunette while Tsuna's horrified face never wavered—and she took the time to clear her throat, awkwardly standing behind the boy, "So, uh, Tsuna. Is this your little brother...?" _If it is, I'm gonna pummel him for teaching someone as young as him about dying and being a hitman! __**SHANNARO!**_

"I'm Reborn, ciao-su," the baby—_Reborn_, she corrected herself—said with a small wave. Her lips pursed, but he continued none-the-less, "Sakura Haruno—it's nice to finally meet Tsunade's apprentice." Her shoulders tensed and her eyes widened in surprise while Tsuna let out a surprised, "Eh?"; _how did he know such information? _In her head, she made sure to list this..._Reborn_ as one of the world's unsolvable mysteries. Why this baby chose to wear a suit and a fedora instead of footsie pajamas and diapers, she'd never know—but one thing was sure; she had questions, he had answers, and _she was going to get them_.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Sakura-san," his high-pitched voice said (_was he some sort of psychic?_), making her eye brows shoot up to her hair line, "But I'm going to leave the explanations to Tsunade." Although she was apprehensive about the whole thing, she nodded; it was better to have her master explain things to her instead of some stranger-baby-thing.

"I can't go to school, Reborn! Kyoko and the others heard my confession and now they're never going to live it down!" Tsuna cried, leaning towards the baby that stared back at him calmly. Sakura tilted her head to the side, all previous apprehension gone at the word 'confession.' She inwardly smirked; so, Tsuna had a crush on Kyoko, eh? _Cute, cute! __**But it sucks that he had to do it in his **_**boxers**_**, bwahahahaha! **_

"You'd never do it in the first place. You should be proud of growing a backbone and confessing—"

Tsuna pinched Reborn's cheeks in retaliation of his last comment, "Shut up!" The smaller male's fist calmly pulled back and sent a punch to the brunette's cheek, making Sakura's eye twitch in irritation. She had just healed that, dammit! Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest and concentrated her gaze on the baby; she vaguely heard something about 'Deathperate' and 'trucks' but her thoughts blocked all noises.

There was something awfully wrong with this baby—or whatever he was; a midget, a prodigy, a mutated-child-man-thing—that made her uncomfortable. He spoke like an adult, not gibberish drool-inducing words. He walked up-right, not crawling in knees and hands. He wore professional clothes, not diapers and bibs. _He knew Tsunade, and that she was her apprentice. _Before Sakura's thoughts could stray any further, her ears caught the sound of Tsuna's frantic voice, "K-Kyoya Hibari-san!"

_Oh, god. _

Emerald eyes stared warily at the President in front of them, his high-authority aura making her uncross her arms and hang them limply at her sides. His eyes trailed to her and they narrowed slightly—_holy cow, don't panic, don't panic. _Visibly gulping, she clutched the strap of her bag as he spoke, his voice dangerously calm and his vision still focused on her, "You two were late the other day, too. Half-naked boy and pink-haired girl; as the President of the Namimori Disciplinary Committee, I cannot allow such disrespectful acts on campus."

"I-I'm sorry!" She heard Tsuna nervously scramble to gather his clothes and briefcase, but she made no move to escape the wrath of the prefect; she didn't know why herself, but her feet were frozen and her eyes were still gazing back at Hibari's with fear and caution; _he remembered the last time they were late. _This was strike two—anything else, and he'd surely have _both _of their heads.

Her heart practically stopped when his gaze at her turned dark, his eyes narrowing into slits, "If you don't get to class, _I'll bite you to death._"

_I'll bite you to death. _

She snapped out of her trance when she felt someone grab her arm in a gentle grip and pull her away from her spot, passing Hibari, who watched them with calculating eyes as they made their way to class (oh, the joys of looking over your shoulder). She made no move to take her arm out of his grip as her head was set downcast; she was walking on thin ice.

The fact that she had probably gotten the older irritated with her constant lateness made her nervous of the next fault she did. The president had remembered her (of course he did! why in the world was she cursed with such noticeable pink hair, dammit!) and she was now dangerously close to being...'bitten to death.' Whatever that meant—it probably didn't mean living to see the next day.

"Um, Sakura-chan," the boy next to her scratched the back of his head, and she looked up to see his blushing face and the entrance to the boy's bathroom behind him, "I kinda need to change into some clothes, so you can go to class without me..." His voice trailed off, but she raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. There was_ no _way she'd walk the halls alone after what had happened.

"Just hurry up and change." She made sure her voice left no room for arguments and he stared at her for a few moments before nodding and running into the room behind him; she patiently waited outside until he came out, fully-clothed and less perverted. Without a word, she walked alongside him until they reached the classroom door—when he opened it, though, they were met with laughing and insults (well, to him, not her; she was not 'Underpants man'), which made a vein on her wide forehead throb in annoyance; the boy had been through enough for the day, and she had been through enough. Period.

"_'Kyoko Sasagawa, please go out with me!' _That was hilarious!"

"Man, that has to be the funniest thing I ever saw! Nice going, underpants man!"

"Didn't she reject your _proclamation of love_—" Through the corner of her eyes, Tsuna's head bowed, his eyes clouding up in sadness and embarrassment at being ridiculed more that usual—especially about his confession. _**That's unacceptable! **_If it was one thing she hated, it was _bullies _and right now she was about to knock some sense into them with_ Mr. Left _and _Mr. Right_. Hopefully her master wouldn't mind having some extra customers.

On second thought, she didn't want to cause some bruises and broken bones due to the fact that the older woman would have her ass if she ever found out about it (and it was her 'sake break' about now; _no one _dared disturb her unless they wanted a desk thrown their way). Her eyes sparked with irritation and she sent dirty looks at each and every single student that was laughing at the poor boy's misfortune; placing a comforting hand on his shoulder—which made his head snap up and stare at her incredulously—her lips pulled back into a snarl as she slammed the door behind her roughly, causing all eyes to be turned to her and the room to go silent.

She inwardly smirked; now that she had their attention, it was time she took her pent-up anger out on them (being late for the first time, going through stupid polynomials, getting those damn chakra restraints, being kidnapped, being beat up by a group of pansies, bumping into some jerk, meeting a baby that made her head cloud up with questions, being threatened to get bitten by the President AND witnessing someone getting bullied—this day could possibly not get any worse).

Growling, she placed her free hand on her hip, "Is it really your business whether or not she rejected him? What happened was between _them _and _them alone_, so you shouldn't be nosing around. Give him a break!"

She glanced to her right and sent the slack-jawed boy a reassuring smile before making her way to her seat without another word, nodding in response to Kyoko's relieved look; it must have been uncomfortable for her just having to sit there and listen to those babbling idiots talk about her.

Ignoring the murmurs of "Whoah, I've never seen Sakura-san that pissed..." and "Did she just stick up for No Good Tsuna?" she was about to take her seat and do some of her unfinished homework from yesterday (oh, and her _homework!_ Stupid pansies that beat her up—she was forced to rest and not move an inch by Shizune and she couldn't do her freaking _homework!_) when something interesting caught her ears.

The chubby guy with the name she couldn't remember laughed through the awkward silence, "Tsuna, Mochida-senpai wants to face you off during lunch!"

"Yeah, he said he was going to defend Kyoko's honor!" The wavy-haired girl—Hana Kurokawa, if she remembered correctly—winked towards the embarrassed Kyoko, and the pinkette resisted the urge to roll her eyes; typical, Mochida-senpai was only doing it so that he could win Kyoko's heart. She tuned out the squealing girls (minus Kyoko) and trailed her gaze to the boy near the door.

Her face turned serious, though, when she saw Tsuna's anxiety-ridden face. _Geeze, all this because he asked Kyoko-san out? _Even if he _did_ seem like a pervert with his boxers and what not, she really thought people were over-reacting about the whole thing. She shook her head; _why couldn't just Mochida-senpai punch him and leave it after that? Boys these days, always have the need to do unnecessary things to gain recognition._

Eventually, the chatter died down and she watched in sympathy as the brunette sluggishly made his way towards his seat, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. After a few more moments of staring at his back, she sighed, running a hand through her long pink locks and reluctantly turning her attention back towards her half-done sheet of _polynomials_. At least there was something to look forward to during lunch other than her mom's famous bento box.

* * *

><p>"Mom <em>seriously <em>needs to get her own restaurant."

After throwing away the leftovers of her lunch, Sakura casually sauntered towards the direction of the gym, hands loosely gripping the strap of her bag. She bit her lip; Mochida was the captain of the kendo team, taking his pride from his victory of winning the prefectural tournament from the year before—not to mention, he was well-known throughout the school and was quite popular amongst the students. Tsuna, on the other hand, had no talents what-so-ever except having the uncanny ability to strip into his boxers at random times.

She bet he was already out of school and hiding away somewhere nobody would find him.

_**WHAT'S THE POINT IN BATTLING WHEN MOCHIDA-SENPAI ALREADY KNOWS HE WINS BY DEFAULT? SHANNARO! **_

Shaking her head in disapproval, she neared the gym—her eyes caught sight of a distraught Tsuna, who leaned against the door with trembling hands, muttering to himself incoherent things. Tilting her head to the side questioningly, she creeped her way behind him and tapped his shoulder, making him jump in surprise. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his stupidity...only to fail. Her eye-roll was accompanied by a loud sigh and the shake of her head.

"Tsuna," She began, her eyes staring at him intently, "You're...going to fight against Mochida-senpai?" She watched in amusement as he reeled back from her, looking as if he had been slapped right across the face.

"No!" He exclaimed, but he regained his posture and ran a hand through his hair, "I mean...I don't know. I don't stand a chance against him..."

"Don't think like that!" Deep down inside, she knew he was absolutely right; Tsuna was scrawny and had no muscles whatsoever—if he were to go in there and face Mochida-senpai, he'd probably die...well, not die.

Tsuna'd probably get severely injured and then she'd get to practice her medical ninjutsu on him like earlier in the morning. Without him knowing, of course. But it didn't hurt to try and encourage him, seeing as he had low self-esteem and was a timid person. So, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small, confident smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes, "You'll do fine. Even if you lose, you'll still have your pride, right...?"

She bit her lip (damn, she'd been doing that a lot lately...) when he looked unconvinced, his eyes still showing traces of doubt; his face had brightened considerably, but not enough for him to actually go in there and face Mochida-senpai himself. She could see he was mentally debating on whether or not he should surrender peacefully and run away or go in there, get his ass kicked, and still have his pride as a man and not a coward. He was probably leaning towards the 'surrender peacefully' side.

"You know what, Tsuna?" Her hard voice made him flinch, but she continued in hopes of getting him to not turn to his cowardly ways, "You're no one special. You have no talents what-so-ever. Mochida-senpai is famous at school, being captain of the kendo team. But you've got one thing he lacks in—you've got the determination to face the challenge even if you _know _you're talentless or out of your league. Sure, you're probably wanting to go home and forget about the whole thing...but you still had the guts to actually show up at the gym! You should be proud of yourself, Tsuna—this is a big step in life; over-coming obstacles in order to move on."

After she had finished her little speech (which she worked on so hardly, _thank you very much_), Tsuna's face twisted into an expression that was a cross between realization and determination—at this, she couldn't help but let her lips twitch upwards into a satisfied smile. She placed a hand on his shoulder and made a fist with the other, her eyes glinting with excitement and pride, "So, are you going to go in there and beat Mochida-senpai up?"

"Yeah...yeah!" He nodded vigorously, his hands clenching into fists at his sides; she felt like she had made a break through! Tsuna's self-esteem was raised and it was all because of her! She inwardly patted herself on the back for her large accomplishment. Her smile grew into a grin, "Are you ready?"

He nodded once more with more enthusiasm than last time, raising his fists in the air with his eyes set in determination, "Yeah!"

Man, her face felt like it was going to split open with all the smiling and what not...but it was _worth _it; she was about to see the the outcome of one of her greatest achievements yet and she couldn't be more excited for Tsuna—it was his chance to prove to everyone that he wasn't a coward and that he could gain everyone's respect...well, probably not everyone, but the ones who mattered: namely, Kyoko Sasagawa's respect. The pinkette guessed that if Kyoko were to respect him and _not _see him as a pervert, then he'd probably die a happy man.

She cheered him on, turning him around so that he could face the door and prepare for his fight, "C' mon! Go in there and kick to butt!" He let out something akin to a battle cry and placed his hand on the door—only for him to freeze up and stare blankly at the un-opened door. She raised an eye brow; was he trying to think up something witty to say when he came in? Surely, the boy wasn't that cliche. After a few more moments (he _still _didn't open the door), she sweatdropped, "Uh...Tsuna, are you alright?"

He didn't respond at first, and her temper flared a bit when she assumed he had snubbed her; she placed her hands on her hips and was about to glare at him when his head slowly looked over his shoulder—she was greeted with a twitching smile and wide eyes, face pale and shoulders trembling, "I-I can't do it..."

She blinked.

_**WHAT DID HE JUST FREAKING SAY?**_

And that was when her temper hit him full force—the aftermath of her rage had her eye twitching, Mr. Left throbbing, and Tsuna on the ground with his hands cradling the back of his head, whimpering to himself as she cracked her knuckles ominously. _What the heck? _She gave him a freaking speech that made her head throb—it was hard to make a speech off the top of her head, and it all went to waste. Her heart fell and she inwardly sighed; her accomplishment back-fired. "Don't be an idiot!"

If he wasn't going to man up..._fine_.

Exasperated, she grabbed him by his upper arm and pulled him towards the door. If _he _wasn't going to walk in there, _she _was gonna make him do it. Ignoring his strangled cries, she made sure her grip was vice-like and kicked the door open, and the conversations that were going on in there stopping to a halt as all their attention was focused on her scowling face and his wide-eyed one. She looked at him—he reluctantly looked at her—and nodded, scowl disappearing and being replaced by a determined grin as she pushed him forward and into the awaiting crowd.

"You can do it, Tsuna!" She cheered, making him look over his shoulder once more—his face was scrunched up in fear and confusion, but it slowly faltered into a hard face, nodding in her direction (_heh, he's probably shaking in his boots but putting up a strong front_); she smiled and jogged to the empty space next to a surprised-looking Yamamoto. This was it. The moment everyone had been waiting for after the fiasco that morning. She bit the insides of her cheek to stop her lips from forming another grin; _**Lets go, SHANNARO!**_

In the make-shift arena in front of her, Mochida-senpai was going on about something that had to do with how much of a scum Tsuna was. She sighed—it seemed like the fight wasn't going to start anytime soon—but she was wrong. Suddenly, the older boy raised his kendo sword at him and she straightened up, ears perking to hear what was going on. He explained the rules of the match: Tsuna had to take one in ten minutes and that was all he had to do to win, but if he couldn't, he loses. She pursed her lips; _what the heck did _'take one' _mean? _By the confused look on the brunette's face, he probably didn't know either.

"...and whoever wins...gets _Kyoko Sasagawa!_" The kendo sword was pointed in the said girl's direction, who bristled at the fact that she was being treated as a trophy. At that, Sakura immediately clenched her fists and gritted her teeth in fury. _How dare he do that! What a shallow jerk..._Unknowingly, her lips pulled back into a snarl; the crowd voiced her opinions and she silently agreed with Hana's words about Mochida-senpai being a pig. _He surely was!_

When the older boy prepared to attack, she turned to Yamamoto—who watched the scene unfold with his brow creased—and pointed towards the barrel of kendo swords nearby, "Yamamoto-kun, pass me one of those swords!"

He stared at her for a moment before nodding and running off, grabbing one then throwing it at her from his spot. Catching it with ease, she then let out a small battle cry and threw it at the brown-haired boy with all her might—only for it to hit his forehead and send him crashing to the cold surface of the floor. There was no time for an apology; her eyes switched between the charging Mochida-senpai and Tsuna, who was still on the ground but had the sword in his hand. She bit her lip; he needed to move fast if he still wanted his head!

Remembering what Mochida-senpai had said, her temper flared; her hands balled into fists, bringing them up to her chest. With her eyes blazing in fury, she cried out the first thing that came to her mind, "**KICK THAT PIG'S ASS, TSUNA! SHANNARO!**"

That seemed to do it—once he heard her voice, he snapped out of his frozen spot on the floor and pushed himself up, the kendo sword gripped tightly in his trembling hands as he ran as fast as he could from the older boy. Her brow furrowed in worry; _c' mon, Tsuna, do something..._emerald eyes widened when Mochida-senpai raised his sword and brought it down on his head. Luckliy, the shorter boy blocked the hit with his own sword but the harsh impact made it fly out of his hands and slide a few feet away from him.

Her eye twitched, though, when he began to run around the gym with his hands shielding his head as the older boy chased him around with the sword raised, prepared to hit. _That...is just pathetic. _She knew that if she were her old self, she'd be laughing her butt off and practically be crying at the sight of that. It was sad to see such a fight with one side being at a disadvantage. She nearly jumped to his aid when Tsuna tripped and fell onto the floor; Mochida-senpai was going to _destroy _the kid! The look in the older boy's eyes made her want to punch that smirk right off his face. And she knew Mr. Left and Mr. Right were willing to volunteer.

Just as he was about to get hit by the wooden appendage, something whizzed over heads and hit Tsuna smack dab in the forehead (she cringed; in the exact same spot where she threw the sword...that _had _to hurt), making him fall back with his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Her logical mind told her to go over there and heal his butt and call the match off due to his inability to fight because he looked eerily dead—but her instincts told her to sit her but down and wait for something to happen. As she finished that thought, something _did _happen.

Well, all of his clothes burnt off of his body and laid in shreds as he rose up from the ground with a burning forehead. Was that normal?

_**What was with this kid and boxers? **_No matter how badly she wanted to face palm, she couldn't do it—she was too busy gawking at Tsuna's renewed willpower as he let out a determined cry of, "I'll take one from Mochida-senpai as if my life depended on it!"

And on his way he went, getting hit on the forehead for the third time that day (and she believed her eyes were lying to her at first, but they _weren't_; the sword broke as soon as it hit him and she questioned whether or not he was the same Tsuna as before) and surprising every single person in the gym.

It was only after the sword broke that everyone else began to comment on how 'Underpants Man' made an awesome comeback. She took the time to analyze his changed features; the clothes burnt off of his body, the flame on his forehead, his newly-found strength, his seemingly indestructible abilities. And then it hit her: _Tsuna was under the effect of the Deathperation Shot. _

So Reborn _was_ telling the truth. She made a mental note to ask—no, _demand _an explanation from Tsunade as soon as she got to practice after school.

The oddly familiar ripping sound brought her back to reality and her gaze landed on the orange-flamed boy, who was sitting on the older boy while..._tearing out his hair? _She pursed her lips; so he really _didn't _know what the phrase 'take one' meant—that was Mochida-senpai's fault for being undetailed about the instructions...she let out a small laugh when the younger boy practically tore all of the other's hair off, leaving a sizable pile of raven-colored locks nearby.

She only noticed now that the flame had disappeared and Reborn's words bounced in the confines of her mind, _'The effects of the Deathperation shot only lasts five minutes_._'_

Once the red flag was raised and Tsuna was given his point, the whole crowd erupted in incredulous cheers and cries of victory. Pride for the brown-haired boy welled up inside her and she made sure her cheer was the loudest, "YOU DID AWESOME, TSUNA! That was amazing!" _It truly was amazing. _

To see such a cowardly boy do something that he'd never do in a million years was truly inspiring—now that he had gained everyone's respect, he wouldn't be known as No Good Tsuna anymore. It was time he got rid of that name—he honestly didn't deserve it after proving his brave heart by saving her the day before. She craned her neck to look at the orange-haired girl that stood nearby, and couldn't help but smile when she saw the pure happiness that was gracing the taller girl's (_only by _two centimeters!) pretty features.

Oddly, she felt an eerie presence behind her. Cocking her head to the side, she looked over her shoulder to search for that eerie presence—but instead, she was met with the purple-gray eyes that she had grown to fear.

She'd never admit it (and never would even in her later years) but the way they stared at her...it felt like they were staring right through her_ soul_, and that very thought _alone_ sent shivers down her very core. Past the crowd and cheering people, she spotted the President himself causally leaning against the wall, arms crossed and face set into an emotionless facade. And when their gazes met, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his lips twitched up into something akin to a smirk.

_Turn your head away! _And even when she did, she could still feel his gaze lingering on her now-trembling form. _What did he want from her? _She could only think of one thing: _"I'll bite you to death." _Was her impending death coming soon? Without her knowing, her face had scrunched up in fear and her whole body was now suffering from tremors. Her fear was heightened when a hand clasped her shoulder and her head whipped to the side, only to see Yamamoto with his ever-so-present cheerful smile—this calmed her down a bit, the tremors dying into mere twitches as she looked up at his towering form.

"Ne, Sakura, are you okay?" He asked, his eye brows raising in curiosity, "You looked like you saw a ghost!" At this she gave him a small laugh and shook her head.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she began; she chose her words carefully, her hands twitching to adjust her bag strap nervously, "As for the ghost...no. But something close to it." They let out a chuckle—her's albeit fake—and he walked off; probably going to practice. For the sake of her soul, she brushed off the previous incident and shook her head; _now's not the time for such thoughts. Now's the time to congratulate Tsuna!_

Deciding to leave to practice and have her questions answered, she made her way to him and slapped the boy on his back—nearly making him fall flat on his face in the process—and gave him a grin, "See? I told you you could do it!" With that being said, she waved him good bye (even though he probably was about to say something to her; _sorry, Tsuna, I have practice_) and ran out of the gym—only to run into someone. _Again. _

"You again? I told you to watch where you're going the last time, pinky." _That voice! _It couldn't be, there was just no _freaking way. _But the silver hair, the green eyes, the rebellious outlook, _the darn scowl_—there was no denying it; it was that jerk from earlier. And he had called her _pinky_. That nickname was forbidden! How _dare _he insult her about her hair color! His hair was freaking _silver_, damn it! And so, her anger boiled up inside her like a volcano awaiting to erupt; _this jerk was just _begging _to have a chakra-enhanced fist shoved down his throat._

"Well, you shouldn't be blocking the exit way, IDIOT!" She huffed, her eyes set into a harsh glare that'd probably send anyone screaming and begging for her mercy—but the kid wasn't just 'anyone.' In fact, the jerk returned her glare, his lips twitching back into a growl and his hands clenched at his sides. _So, he wasn't going to back down, eh? I guess he's a masochist 'cause he _really _wants to have all the bones in his body broken. _This time, she really considered brushing off Tsunade's rule—Mr. Left and Mr. Right were just itching to teach that guy the rules of etiquette and proper mannerisms.

Before anything else could happen (and before any punches were thrown and ground to be destroyed), someone called out to her from the distance, "Sakura!"

After narrowing her eyes at the boy, she craned her neck to the side to look behind him and saw Yamamoto waving at her. _What could he...? _Instead of questioning his reason, she huffed, sending a sharp glance at the still-scowling boy and storming past him in order to see what the tall boy wanted. _Stupid jerk, I hope I never have to see his face again..._

Once she arrived to where he was at, she was greeted with another one of his bright smiles (she secretly thanked him; his smiles always seemed to brighten up any situation), "Have you ever thought about playing baseball?"

_Eh?_

Giving him a strange look, she shook her head slowly, "No, the idea never really struck me. Why?"

"Well, you have a great throw," he complimented. What was he—oh. He was probably talking about the time she threw the sword at Tsuna—_oh, wow..._heat made its way to her cheeks; Takeshi Yamamoto, Namimori Middle School's Baseball Star, complimented _her _throw? Before she could reply, he continued and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a thumbs up, "We could use that arm of your's on the team—if you want to join, just stop by at one of our practices sometime."

Again, she didn't have enough time to reply—instead, he jogged off all the while giving her a wave until he turned a corner; she just stood there, watching where he had disappeared to with her mouth opening and closing as if she were a fish out of water.

After a few more moments of staring, a smile made it's way to her face; well, at least _one _thing she really liked happened today. Then, the thought of seeing her master's calmly-furious face crossed her mind, and all she thought about all the while skipping to practice was getting some answers and trying to think of ways to juggle training, school work, home life, and _baseball _in her life. _Man, things are going to be pretty busy this year._

* * *

><p>"I assume you've already met Reborn." Tsunade was no mind reader, but she knew that something was wrong when her apprentice had stomped in and asked if she had any idea that a hitman knew of her true intentions. Of course, Tsunade knew—she just didn't think Reborn would make his presence known to the younger girl so early...she inwardly groaned; it had only been a <em>day <em>since he arrived and now he had her apprentice on edge. But, she also knew one thing—it was high time Sakura learned _everything_.

"Sakura," she began, her amber eyes set in stone and her voice leaving no room for her to speak, "What I am about to tell you is important for you to know—you mustn't tell _anyone _except our allies. Understood?" Knowing that the pinkette probably didn't know Tsuna was the tenth generation Vongola boss (she was pretty sure the girl didn't even know what the _Vongola _are), she raised her hand to silently ask her to stay quiet; instead of questioning, the girl nodded her head vigorously.

She took a deep breathe, closing her eyes for a few moments of silence. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth—after years of hiding it, she was finally going to reveal it. Old feelings began to resurface—memories of a perverted white-haired man, an evil snake-like teammate, a determined blonde-haired demon container, a loyal pink-haired girl...she brushed it all aside. She could get lost in memory lane later with a few bottles of sake—right now, telling Sakura was her top priority.

"Shizune and I are not from here." Her dark-haired assistant shifted uncomfortable next to her. She, on the other hand, was serious and quiet, her gaze probing for the younger girl's reaction; in response, the girl tilted her head to the side in confusion, "I know that. Aren't you from Italy?"

_That was true. _"Yes, but in the beginning, I came from somewhere else," she replied calmly, entwining her fingers and resting her chin on them while closing her eyes. Taking the silence as a sign to continue, she opened her eyes to reveal her hardened gaze, "It may be hard to believe, but I came from another...dimension."

It didn't take long before the pinkette burst out into a fit of giggles, her hand covering over her mouth to stop them, "That's really funny, shishou, but really—"

Her gaze, if possible, became even harder and pierced through the girl's skin; Tsunade knew that it would be her first reaction, but she knew that her student knew she was serious when it came to these kinds of things...that, and she rarely joked.

"You're...not joking." Her reply came in the form of a statement, she shook her head, her pigtails swaying to her every movement.

"No. You see, the dimension we came from was a dimension that depended on chakra—everyone there was either a ninja or a civilian, and each person had their chakra. Ninja had more chakra than civilians, and were given tasks by the highest ranking ninja there was: the Hokage..."

And so, Tsunade told the girl—who stared on with wide eyes and a look that a child would have whenever someone told them a fairytale—about the hardships of a shinobi, told her of her life and how she spent it with her teammates before they died, told her about her time as the Slug Princess, told her about a blonde-haired boy that never gave up on his dreams, told her about a raven-haired boy who's heart lay frozen inside his chest and his thirst for revenge never quenched, told her about a silver-haired man who's past was dark and who's penchant for being late always came with a lame excuse of cats and old women, told her of a pink-haired girl who grew up to be a wonderful young woman—a girl who was once weak and watching from the sidelines, that grew into an independent woman with the power to break bones and heal the deepest wounds.

The world of Shinobi had broke out in war, causing all nations to come together in order to take down a rising evil known as Madara Uchiha. He had unexpectedly infiltrated Konoha with an army of shinobi, his goal to kill Tsunade and take her spot as the Hokage. She knew they didn't stand a chance, but it bought the other nations some time to formulate a plan to defeat Madara, but she was caught in his time-space jutsu along with Shizune and was sent to another dimension.

They knew they were not in their world when they discovered technology that was too-advanced for them, and tried to adapt all the while trying to find a way back to their dimension. They tried to find a way, but there was none—the only way they could go back was if Madara himself showed up and took them back, but that was highly unlikely. So, not wanting to let their skills go rusty, they built a clinic that was much like the one they had now and opened it up to people who couldn't afford going to the hospital. People questioned their healing ways, saying that they were miracle workers, but she told them that it was a secret.

And so, people came to the clinic and people left—most came back, and others offered her jobs at well-known hospitals and laboratories, but she refused. One customer in particular came in one day from a friend's suggestions—he happened to be the ninth generation Vongola boss, who came looking for a way to relieve the pain in his legs, which she did. Amazed with her healing abilities, he offered her an alliance with the Mafia; he knew of her large debts for many people, which included mafia members, and offered her protection in return that she be their medic. She accepted—and that started her life as a mafia hitman.

Her clinic became a famous place for the hitmen after they had finished their job, and she treated them without caring which side they were on. Her place was 'neutral grounds' for everyone, and she prohibited any killing and fighting within it's range. Wanting to expand her knowledge of the world, she was granted permission by the ninth to move her clinic to Japan, where she once more proclaimed it to be 'neutral grounds' for everyone. After being sent to Namimori for a task for the ninth, she spotted a head of pink and discovered that there was an alternate form of the Sakura Haruno in her world; the alternate form, she surprisingly noticed, had an extra amount of chakra than civilians usually had, and decided to take her in as her apprentice and move her clinic to Namimori—thus changing 12-year-old Sakura Haruno's life forever.

Naruto Uzumaki was Sakura's alternate form's teammate, a young boy that had a demon living inside him. Even when he was insulted by everyone, he still kept going, kept looking towards the bright side of any situation and faced them head on with a determined smile. His dream of being Hokage was what he worked for each and every single day—unfortunately, she didn't know what had happened to him after she was transported away with Shizune. Hopefully, he had achieved his dream and had his face carved onto the mountain next to her's.

Sasuke Uchiha was her ex-teammate, a young boy boy that had seen the darker side of life. His family was murdered by his older brother, who carved his niche into the younger boy's mind by teaching him how to harbor hate—that in order to avenge his family, he had to become stronger. And he did become stronger—but for all the wrong reasons. Soon enough, his mind was so clouded by his lust for power that he betrayed his village and became a threat to each and every ninja. The last time she had saw him, she tried to land a punch to his pretty little face, but Naruto had done it for her. Hopefully, he was knocked some sense into.

Kakashi Hatake was her squad leader, a middle-aged man that was late for everything. When he was young, his father committed suicide due to being unable to handle the pressure of having to suffer the consequences of breaking the rules to save a comrade—thus, the saying was practically carved into his mind at such a young age, "Those who break the rules are trash." Although, after a turn of events in his Jonin years had his left eye scarred and a comrade hurt, the saying was changed along with a change of heart, "Those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash." His fate was unknown, due to the fact that he was sent out to war before she was transported.

Sakura Haruno was her alternate form, a young girl that looked exactly like her. She had come to Tsunade wanting to be stronger in order to bring Sasuke back, and she had took her in as her apprentice, quickly learning the basics of medical ninjutsu and improving her taijutsu. In a span of three years, she had become a beautiful young woman, having skills that rivaled even the Slug Princess herself—possibly even surpassing her. During the war, she was shipped out but was called back to treat the injured—she unfortunately got caught in the battle between Tsunade, Shizune, and Madara, and died protecting her master. Tsunade had viewed her as a surrogate daughter, and the loss of her apprentice was hard on her and Shizune.

"Shishou..." The girl called out to her softly, her eyes glazed over, "Is that why you decided to take me in as your apprentice? Because I reminded you of my...alternate form?"

Tsunade let her lips form a bittersweet smile, "Yes—and even though it was the second time training you, you never to disappointed me." Of course, even if she wasn't the original Sakura Haruno, this girl was a person on her own with her own life and what not—though, the similarities to their abilities were uncanny: they were both smart, both learned quickly, both were good at medical ninjutsu, both were bullied as children for having such unusual features. _But they aren't the same, _the older woman reminded herself sadly.

"Shishou," the pinkette spoke up again—but her voice, this time, her voice was hard; her amber eyes trailed over to her own emerald ones and found them to be blazing with determination and vigor. Suddenly, the younger girl stood up, startling her and Shizune, and walked up in front of the desk with her hand over her heart, "I swear, I will live up to your previous apprentice's name! I will not fail you, and become the best apprentice you ever had. I will become stronger, I will protect my loved one, and I will be as great as Sakura Haruno—the greatest woman I have ever heard of!"

_She's just like you, _the blonde thought with an inward smile, thinking of wherever the other pinkette would be even if she was in the Heaven a world away. She could practically see the older Haruno welling up with pride at the thought of seeing a younger version of herself pledging to become stronger for others. _Same old Sakura._

"But shishou...how does Reborn tie into all of this? I understand that he came from the same family as the ninth, but..."

"Reborn is here to train the tenth generation boss," she stated, waving her hand dismissively, but paused and sent Sakura a sharp look, "Who happens to be Tsunayoshi Sawada. I'm sure you've heard of him?"

She received no response. Instead, the pinkette stood there comically with her mouth agape, her eyes wide, her form frozen. After a few more moments, she watched in amusement as the girl shook her head slowly at first, but then it sped up until she was shaking it with much vigor, "W-What? Tsuna? Being a Mafia Boss? T-That's...impossible!" She sent her teacher a confused look, "So Reborn is training Tsuna?"

"Yes, he is," Tsunade stated calmly, closing her eyes and resting her chin on the palm of her hand, "And because we are allied to the Vongola, he asked _us _to be allied to Tsuna's family, too—that is, if he makes one."

Again, she received no response, and watched in amusement as the younger girl's face changed expressions; the girl was probably registering the information and was trying to decide whether or not she should actually tread through such deep waters. And so, as Sakura took a deep breath, the girl nodded in understanding, "Okay. I'll help him and his family. But shishou, will this interfere with my training?"

"No, no; consider this...extra training—you'll be healing people quite a lot since the mafia get into nitty-gritty situations that ultimately leads to them being severely injured." Seeing the girl's face lose it's color and her eyes glinting in self-doubt, she reassured her with the wave of her hand, "Don't worry, since he's still building his family and finding members, they won't get into much trouble." The girl nodded once more, and her eyes once again lit up with fiery resolve as she clenched her fists at her sides.

"I promise you, shishou—I won't fail as being a medic. Better yet, I won't fail as being a..._shinobi_."

"No." Tsunade stared at the now-gaping girl in front of her with a furrowed brow—she did not take her words back when she saw the hurt flash in her emerald eyes. Instead, she glanced at Shizune through her peripheral vision and gave her a sharp nod. The dark-haired woman nodded and rushed to one of the corners of the room where she opened a few drawers, looking for something. Although she had no doubt Sakura would become a strong shinobi, she couldn't make it without _it. _

The dark-haired woman bustled to Tsunade's side, handing her the appendage with a small smile on her face. The older woman raised from her spot behind the desk and made her way towards the confused-looking Sakura; in her hands was the only thing that reminded her of her past, and now, it was time that she finally let go. Once she was at arms length of her, she handed the younger girl the thing that she had kept locked away for over six years—a pair of black leather gloved that were worn with use but still in good condition.

"These gloves were her's," the blonde explained, her eyes soft as she placed the gloves in the pinkette's hands. The said girl stared at them with wide eyes that were glowing with amazement, and slowly but surely she pressed the gloves against her chest. The older woman smiled and brought a hand up to the girl's head, ruffling her long pink locks and messing up the knot of the red ribbon she kept tied to hold her bangs back, "With these gloves, you're sure to succeed in being a shinobi."

A smile slowly formed on the girl's face, and the next thing she knew, she was being hugged tightly by the pinkette, who then looked up from the valley of her breasts with a bright grin, "Thank you, shishou!"

At that moment, she couldn't help but think of how they were so similar yet so different at the same time—but her thoughts were interrupted by the desire for sake; and so, before Sakura's training began, the three celebrated their new resolve with a bottle of sake and some tea for the minor. And while she gulped down on her third bottle of sake, watching Shizune teach Sakura how to use a chakra scalpel, she couldn't help but feel that things were starting to change for the better.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in Namimori, Tsunayoshi Sawada had just been told he was destined to be the tenth generation Vongola boss.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Hey, this took shorter to type out than expected, :D well, I'll be going back to school in a few weeks, but I won't put this story on hiatus. Even with homework, I'll do my best to finish this story! But homework comes first, aha. <em>

_If you're confused about the whole Tsunade/Shizune transportation and alternate form, let me elighten you: Basically, Tsunade and Shizune were sent to the KHR world by Madara and find themselves adapting to the country of Italy. After a few years, they become allied to the Vongola, and is sent out on a mission by the ninth to Japan. In Japan, th two see a head of pink hair and decide to follow it—and they discover it's a girl named Sakura Haruno; apparently, the Sakura from their world had an parallel form in the KHR world, so they decide to take her in as their apprentice. (I'm sorry, I know I sound a little confusing...)  
><em>

_I'm guessing you are all wondering what the pairing is, correct? Well...I'm still thinking of it—as of right now, I have an idea of one but...I'm just thinking of ways to incorporate it into the story; for now, there will be hints of Sakura/Harem, so you can enjoy that in the meantime, ;) Well, I'll be off—again, I do not know when I'll finish the next chapter, so just keep on the look-out! _

(I do not own Naruto or Katekyo Hitman Reborn—I simply make fanfiction for them.)


	3. a start of a new family

Grabbing her gym uniform from her dresser, Sakura stuffed it in her bag unceremoniously before jogging down the stairs of her house, slipping into her socks near the door. Her mom—who was cooking breakfast in the kitchen—gestured her over with an...eerily calm face that the pinkette _knew _meant something was wrong; usually that scary face would be used when she was called by the teacher or found out she had an overdue book at the library that cost over two-hundred dollars, but for some odd reason, there was something else behind that face.

So, she apprehensively took a seat, her legs swinging nervously from the edge of the oak wood chair. No words were said in the mean time—only the awkward silence as a mother continued to stare at her daughter; a mother-daughter bonding moment...specifically a Haruno mother-daughter moment. The pinkette bit her lip; _how the heck was her mother able to stare at her while cooking? _Of course, with many years of practice, the older Haruno was able to multitask—which, unfortunately, meant she could make the younger Haruno uncomfortable. _**Too creepy! **_

A plate of toast and eggs were set in front of her, and she slowly brought out her special pair of froggy chopsticks that her mom had bought her; instead of walking into the living room to enjoy a nice cup of coffee like she usually did every morning, the blonde sat in the seat in front of her with an odd glint in her eyes. Sakura tensed. Odd glints and calm faces were _never _a good thing when dealing with Ayame Haruno. Sure, others would laugh and brush it off simply because that was her trying to be funny and have a good laugh—but, if they actually had to _live _with her for oh, how about 14 years _then_ they'd know it meant the total opposite.

And it _did _mean the total opposite—she hadn't even swallowed her food yet when the older Haruno spoke out for the first time that morning with an overly-preppy tone that was layered with traces of venom that only mother hens had, "Saku-chan, I heard from...other people that you've been hanging around boys lately."

The younger girl blinked, and after a few moments of registering what her mom had said, she resisted the urge to face plant; _oh no_, this was a conversation concerning a mother hen's worst fear—_boys. _And of course, by 'boys' she probably meant Tsuna (for some reason, she had been hanging around with him a lot lately) and by 'other people' she probably meant that old crone that lived down the street who always had a knack for gossiping to her mom about anything and everything. Including the pinkette's love life. _**You wrinkly old bat! Go find yourself a man and get a life! **_

"Mom—"

"Are you dating him?" _Straight to the point_; that was one thing she always admired about her mother, but now? Well, she just really felt vulnerable and interrogated and—wait, _did she just ask if she was dating _Tsuna? By the calm look on the other woman's face, yes—yes, Ayame Haruno had just asked her daughter if she was dating someone. And Sakura Haruno was just _waiting _for her mom to explode into a lecture of 'you're too young for love' and 'I don't want you hanging around him' and 'my child's innocence is tainted by the lips of a pervert' or something along the lines of those.

So, she did what she did best whenever it came to conversation like these—she reeled back as if she were slapped and gaped openly.

"What? Mom, no!" She exclaimed, pink dusting her cheeks at such a sensitive and personal question. _Why must parents _always _nose around in their childrens' love lives? _It was embarrassing enough that she had to deal with her mom's weird obsession with _cartoons _(she'd always deny that, but her collection of limited edition Snoopy artifacts and Hello Kitty lunchboxes that she always kept hidden in her closet were proof), but now her mom was going through that 'don't touch my daughter or tainted her or so help me' phase. She rolled her eyes, running her hand through her hair in annoyance, "He's a friend. _Just _a friend."

"Oh yeah?" The older woman prodded with her scary overly-cheerful voice (_oh my gosh, the calm face and the voice combined—her wrath is just unwinding_), propping her self on her elbows and leaning towards the fidgeting girl that began to chew on her food super slowly; the pinkette's emerald eyes darted around the room, uncomfortable with the scrutiny her mother was using. She inwardly groaned; _couldn't it wait until _after _she finished her breakfast? _

But she knew her mother wouldn't let her go so easily—the 31-year-old was one to prod a certain subject and she'd never give up until she was satisfied with the answer she was given. "Then what about that _handsome _silver-haired boy you 'bumped' (cue the finger quotation marks) into yesterday, hm?"

_Oh god—_really? She resisted the urge to gag, and did her best to stare at her mom without losing her cool, "M-Mom, that guy was a jerk. I don't even know him!" Why? _Why must parents be like this? _Right now, all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and curse the old crone that did this to her. Her eye twitched; _the next time she saw that old crone, she's gonna knock some sense into her—_well, not with her fists, no! With her metaphorical fists, yes. And by fists, she meant giving out wrong information whenever the old crone asked for it.

"Aha! So, it was just a quick fling, eh? A one night stand—" Her mother accused with a finger pointed at the girl's face, and the said girl nearly choked on the toast she was eating. _WHY? Darn her mom's assuming ways!_—drinking her water to calm down her coughing fit, she shot her mom a disbelieving look and pinched the bridge of her nose all the while trying not to _explode_.

She made sure her voice tried to over-power the older woman, who still continued to rant. "Honestly, mom! I bumped into him, the guy was being a jerk, and so I ignored him and made my way to school! Ugh, mom, why are you always dogging on me about _boys? _I can handle myself fine."

"—I raised my daughter to be better than that! And now look—my baby is tainted! _Tainted, _I say!" After her mother finished her babbling, the pinkette let out a groan of frustration and all but stormed out of her seat, ignoring her mother's calls and silently seethed as she walked out of her house. Honestly, the whole thing was ridiculous—mothers could be so over-protective; it was just her luck that she had the violently over-protective one. Sure, her mother was nice and all, but her true nature? Why, her true nature was that of a bull—stubborn, hard-headed, narrow-minded, and was a pain in the ass when poked by it's horns (but in her mother's case, her rolling pin), but the pinkette knew her mom was full of good intentions. _Well...sometimes._

_**Stupid hens. Stupid bats. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. **_With each 'stupid' that crossed her mind, her pace to school became slightly faster—and under a few minutes, she was all but bolting towards school, leaving a trail of dust behind her that made people cough and wave their arms around to move it out of the way.

_She was just so irritated_—her personal life was being broken in to, an old woman kept on spying on her just for the hell of it, her mom was _too freaking _over-protective, she had a volleyball match today ('cause the idiot she was reserved for went and gotten himself sick with the stomach flu or something; that, and her master had _specifically _asked her to take any chance she got in sports so that she could build stamina and train her muscles) and she was the _only girl playing_. If being involved with the mafia wasn't bad enough already.

Unknowingly, her route changed in direction—she had took a left instead of the usual shortcut; she decided that the running was good for a little thinking time, and because her mom's unnecessary rambling had practically forced her out of the house, she wouldn't be late...and then she wouldn't have to deal with the older boy that had a biting fetish. _I'll bite you to death. _She shivered at the thought and shook it off for the sake of her sanity and her concentration; if she kept thinking of him, she was sure to land face-first into some not-so-good-tasting concrete. Her thoughts were cut off when she saw a flash of silver through the corner of her eyes, and she looked over her shoulder and was met face-to-face with..._who was this guy?_

Who was—weirdly—running at the same pace as she was. Who was—weirdly—running right next to her. Who was—weirdly—wearing the Namimori Middle School uniform. Who was—weirdly—yelling some battle cry.

Shaking off the weirdness of it all, she took the time to take in his appearance; his hair was short and silver (again with the silver hair; what was it with people these days with all these weird hair colors?), with eyes a few shades darker than his hair and a thin bandage strip that was placed across his nose—the most notable trait about him, though, was the thin scar that was at the corner of his left eye brow, starting at his forehead and ending at the corner of his eye. Underneath his uniform, he wore a green tee, with dark blue jeans and black sneakers; his hands were wrapped in bandages—no blood, probably just for show.

A gruff and loud voice interrupted her analyzing and she watched in amazement as he turned to her, his gray eyes blazing with passion, "Good morning! It's nice to see someone who enjoys extreme running as much as I do!" She inwardly blanched; this guy acted as if it was the most natural thing to do—it wasn't everyday where someone runs around the town at a speed normal human beings can't run at. Sending him a weird look, the only thing she could do at the moment was nod slowly, inching away from him a bit.

"I see you go to Namimori Middle School! Do you mind if I join you?"

She blinked; _yeah, this guy was _definitely _weird_. Not only that, but his energy somewhat scared her...but, seeing as she probably couldn't get rid of him even if she wanted to (without chakra, of course), she gave a defeated sigh and nodded, offering him a weary smile and turning her attention back to the speeding world in front of her. And as she half-heartedly listened to the older boy—Ryohei Sasagawa (_now why does that sound so familiar?_), he introduced himself—ramble to her, she couldn't help but wonder if there was any sanity left in the world.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Tsuna."<p>

Tired out, she greeted him with forced enthusiasm as she took her spot next to the brunette—the said boy greeted her back with a small smile and the two silently made their way to their classroom. Her legs were hurting and strained at the fact that the jog she had took this morning had gotten out of hand; apparently, Ryohei was a pretty quick runner, and asked if she wanted to race to school. Being curious as to why, she agreed—only to be left in his dust. She didn't want to use chakra (_**I didn't want to make him cry when he lost, shannaro!**_), and had to resort to running as fast as she could.

In the end, they were both tied, making it to school at the same time—he had (loudly, she dully noted) congratulated her and told her that her 'passion was extreme' and that she would (not could, not should, but _would_) become his morning-jog buddy. Before she could argue, however, she was left to stand by the gates while he ran off into the main door, leaving a trail of dust behind him as he did so. And that was how she had found someone to make her life even more insane than it usually was. _Well, it was never normal to begin with, anyway._

She silently wondered to herself as she and the brunette turned a corner—now that she was involved with the mafia, what would happen? To be honest, if being involved with the Mafia meant endangering the people she loved (her mom, even if she was a psychotic hen) then she wanted nothing to do with them. She had a million questions that needed to be answered—who else is in the mafia, what was she going to do, where else would she be needed, when would she have to explain to her mom, why should she be in the mafia, how would she be of help—but she painfully knew that with time, all her questions would be answered. _But too bad_—_I'm not a patient person._

No, she wasn't a patient person—_and she wanted her answers _now. She was sure Tsuna couldn't answer her questions; even if he was destined to be the Vongola boss, he was probably not mentally or emotionally prepared to actually be involved. She didn't need to be a genius to know that he wanted _nothing _to do with the mafia. The boy was too timid to actually do those kinds of things, he was probably scared of the things that would happen in his future as a Vongola boss, he was _just like her_—not wanting to be involved, but have to anyway. But unlike her, who was forced to be involved by Tsunade and could step out any time she wanted to (in order to do so, she had to resign as her apprentice and have her chakra sealed permanently), he had no choice in the matter—he was already chosen because he was from the blood of the first Vongola boss.

In the end—she bitterly realized—that everyone was all the same; even if they wanted certain things to happen or certain things to change, it wouldn't matter because in the end they'd have no choice but to _give up _and go with the flow.

_Life was so bittersweet._

A bastard child, she was. No matter how much she wanted have a father in her life, she couldn't because he was too much of a drunk to actually remember where he belonged. A pink-haired child, she was. No matter how much she wanted the bullying to stop, it didn't because her pink hair would continue to grow as long as she lived and her mom hated hair dye. A nobody, she was. No matter how much she wanted to be acknoledged in a world such as this, she wouldn't because no one bothered a second glance to a pink-haired _freak_ with no father.

She glanced at the smiling boy through the corner of her eye and bit her lip; Tsuna was starting a mafia family—a new beginning. Maybe she could start over and become better than ever. She wouldn't be a bastard child; she'd have a mom and a new family that would be willing to accept her with open arms (_would they?_). She wouldn't be teased of her unnaturally natural looks; she'd have a mom and a new family that would be willing to embrace her—hair, soul, faults, and all (_would they?_). She wouldn't be a nobody; she'd have a mom and a new family that would be willing to show her she wasn't just anybody (_would they?_). A family where she could always count on them, protect them, nurture them, grow up with them—a family that'd love her. A family she'd loved and protect (_would she?_) and risk her life for (_would she?_).

_A family..._

Her thoughts were cut off when they saw the classroom up ahead, and she fixed her uniform so that she didn't look like a train wreck (_dang that energetic and his dang energy_) and walked into the chattering classroom alongside Tsuna—they (_well, mostly Tsuna_) were showered with compliments and laughter and even more chattering as soon as they (_he_) stepped foot into the room, causing him to gawk for a few moments before laughing and smiling awkwardly at everyone. But there was something in the air—something that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

She hated sensations like that—they reminded her too much of the President. And so, wanting to put an end to that sensation, she looked for the source, her emerald eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. A smiling Yamamoto who began to pat Tsuna on the back, Hana letting out soft giggles with Kyoko, that one girl with the pig tails smiling at the chubby boy, the tall blonde flirting with two girls who stared at him with disgust, a silver-haired youth who stood in the corner of the room glaring at Tsuna with his arms crossed and his lips deep-set in a scowl, a red-head laughing along with her brown-haired friend, a dark-haired boy smirking at a blushing and bristling blonde-haired girl—

_Wait a minute_.

Something wasn't right. She scanned the room once more in attempt to distinguish normalcy from the unsual. A smiling Yamamoto was _always _normal (unless he was a sadist that smiled through someone's pain, but that was highly unlikely seeing as the tall boy was a ray of absolute sunshine), a flustered Tsuna was pretty normal since he got embarrassed easily, girls were girls and Hana and Kyoko were no different and liked to giggle about non-sense things very often, she didn't even know who the other people were but she saw them in school a lot, and the silver-haired boy that was scowling—

_Wait another minute. _

The words 'silver' and 'hair' and 'scowling' never sounded good in the same sentence. Her brow furrowed in confusion, but something deep in her gut told her she wasn't imagining that same guy that she bumped into yesterday was in her class. With narrowed emerald eyes, she analyzed him; the spiky chin-lengthed silver hair, the stormy green eyes that were glaring harshly at an oblivious Tsuna (who was still flustered and stuttering due to all the attention he was getting), the 'don't-fuck-with-me-or-you-get-a-fist-to-your-face' posture (crossed arms, body leaned against the wall, one leg on the wall while the other set firmly on the ground), the scowl, the rings and chains and wristbands and necklaces..._yeah, it was him, alright._

_**WAS THIS GUY STALKING ME OR SOMETHING? **_Unknowingly, her gaze had turned into a hard glare and before she knew it, she was making her way through the chattering crowd and towards the jerk that she hoped she'd never ever see again (but in the end, she knew she'd have to give up and go with the flow—no matter how much she wanted him gone and away from her, the other classrooms were full so his chances of switching classes were gone, and she'd have to put up with him for the rest of the school year), causing everyone to go quiet and watch the up-coming show down.

Her strodes were slow, calm, but deep down inside she was resisting the chakra that was slowly leaking out of her form (man, who _knows _what the consequences would be if the purple-gray-eyed boy ever found out she caused craters in the classroom) and controlling her urge to rip his throat out (and maybe misplace some of his organs in places other than inside his body). Once she was only a few feet away, his gaze snapped to her—his scowl did not disappear; instead, it had gotten impossibly deeper. She returned his irritated gaze with a seething look and crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to look intimidating, "What are you doing here, jerk?"

Whispers filled the air. _"Whoah...Sakura-san is calling out the new kid!" _

She watched with sharp eyes, seeing his eye brow twitch; _what the heck was his freaking problem? _She raised an eye brow to indicate she was still awaiting for his answer—accompanied by that was a tapping foot to indicate that she was impatient and fingers drumming along her bicep to indicate that she was_ twice _as impatient. After a few moments, he got up from his spot on the wall and walked towards her, his hands clenched into fists, and stopped when he was nearly centimeters away—he was so close that she could feel the fabric of his shirt brush against the knuckles of her now-fisted hands.

Because he was nearly 5 inches taller than her (only reaching up to his chin; _curse people and their unusual ways of growing taller_), it probably looked comical seeing such a fragile-looking (_**'fragile-looking' my ass, shannaro!**_) girl staring down an intimidating boy. His lips twitched, and she vaguely heard a small 'tch' before he growled out, "Are you stupid or what? Obviously, I'm the new student, pinky." _Again with the _freaking _nickname_—not only that, but he had insulted her intelligence, too. _**THAT BASTARD! **_

"Why I outta—" The next thing she knew, she trying her best to resist wringing the taller boy's neck in pure hate and frustration as the two exchanged barrages of low-blow insults, spewing out curses that would make anyone's mom cry at the sheer vulgarity of it. Her eyes blazed; _this guy was really getting on her nerves. _First, he bumped into her and made an ass out of himself; then, she bumped into him again and he continued to make an ass of himself; now, he was just being a real pain in the ass. _Just who the hell did he think he was? _Just because he picked fights and was a real rebel did not mean he had the right to go around and act like a total jerk to everyone and anyone.

"You know what, kid? You're just another jerk just itching for attention!" _Score one for her._

"Said the girl who dyed her hair pink so that she could catch some attention for herself!" _Oh no he didn't_—

"MY HAIR IS NATURAL, YOU IDIOT!"_**STUPID GIMP, I'M **_**SO **_**GONNA PUMMEL HIS ASS TO THE GROUND WITH SOME GOOD, OLD CHAKRA FISTS!**_

By now, all students had broke out into an uproar and was now circled around the two bickering teens. A few (sane) students tried to pacify the whole situation, but she didn't even bother with them—her temper was just boiling and she _really _wanted to punch that _pretty little face of his_; it was too bad she didn't have her leather gloves with her. She really wanted to test those out and she wanted _him _to have the honors of being the first person to punch with it on. Most of the students cheered from the sidelines, hands cupped around their mouths to amplify their yelling—some cheered on for her, some cheered on the glaring silver-haired boy in front of her.

"Hey new kid, go easy on her—"

"Beat him up, Sakura-san—"

"Sakura-san! Kyaaa, new kid! Fiiiiiggggghhhhtttt—"

Through the cheers and disapproved yells, she heard his pissed-off voice, "You wanna fight, pinky? Then a fight you'll get!" _Fight? __**CHYEAH RIGHT, FIGHTING YOU WOULD BE LIKE SQUASHING AN ANT, SHANNARO! **_

_Oh this boy was just asking for it! _Unknowingly, her hands fisted at her sides, summoning a small amount of chakra. Letting out a loud growl, she pulled her fist back and prepared to land a good punch or two on his still-scowling (_just when does he ever _not _scowl?_) face when the sound of the door slamming open caused her to recoil and jump away, her wide-eyed gaze whipping to the direction of the class room's entrance. Because most of the taller people in class were blocking the way, she wasn't able to see who it was. Suddenly, all noise died in the room, and the chilly sensations crawled up her spine and back down—the hairs on the back of her neck stood erect. _Oh no. _That was _never _a good sign—especially when all the students in the room began to tremble.

_Please don't let it be_—

"You _herbivores _are disrupting other classes. If you don't keep it down, you'll all be bitten to death."

If there was a time when she had a choice to jump out off of the roof of Namimori, it would be now—because it was better to have died a quick and painful death rather than dying by the hands of a blood-lusting person. A cold bead of sweat ran down her temple, her legs frozen and her quarrel with the silver-haired boy behind her quickly forgotten; _no, no, no_—when everyone quietly scrambled to get to their desks, she made sure she stayed low and hidden (her pink hair, of course, attracted attention) and once she got to her seat, she sat, lips sealed and eyes avoiding the figure that stood at the front. _She couldn't be seen, stay quiet, don't talk, don't move. _

This was the last straw—if she was even seen the _slightest _by him, he was going to_...she didn't even want to _think _about it. _Even _if_ she didn't know what was going to happen to her if she was caught. There were a lot of ideas in her head—such as getting beat up, getting expelled, getting beat up _and _expelled—but _death _was probably the most likely to happen. Hopefully no one else in class would not be like her and tread on thin ice, going about and pretending that there was no higher authority in school after the principal.

_But the sliver-haired kid was _sure_ to disrespect the prefect. _

Eyes widening, she whipped her head in the direction of the new student—sure enough, he was standing at the corner of the room with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking through the corners of her eyes at the dark-haired 16-year-old, who was leaning against the door way with his arms crossed. When she thought things were going to get even worse (the new kid looked like he was about to lash out some insults and she knew those kinds of acts were _never _tolerated by the Namimori Discipline Committee), quick footsteps were heard from the hallway outside, followed by a small scared squeak. Peeking through her bangs cautiously, she watched as the prefect yawned and strolled out of the room, "Being late to class is unacceptable as a teacher."

"I-I know, Hibari-san, but something came up—" The resounding sounds of the President's footsteps cut him off and the older man was inside the room in a semi-second, quickly shutting the door behind him and bustling to his desk to get his things assorted (and to probably hide the wet stain on his pants). Relief flooded her veins, calming her racing heart and making her sigh; _she was safe for now_. Closing her eyes, she silently thanked the higher deity up above for blessing her with another day of living. For some odd reason, her luck was in ruins—in the span of four days, she had gone through too many misfortunes to count (maybe it was Tsunade's terrible luck that was starting to rub off on her), but today had to be the luckiest thing that ever happened to her.

_He didn't see her! _That itself was a miracle on it's own.

Her skills at being discreet were improving; not only was she able to avoid being seen by the dark-haired boy (which was like dodging a bullet in the darkness for her), but she was able to prove that pink-hair could easily blend in to certain places (but this was only successful because she had hid her whole face behind the girl that sat in front of her). Her master would be proud—she was becoming more of a ninja; her previous fears were replaced with dignity and pride, straightening up in her seat with a small smile on her face. Hopefully, she wouldn't run into him. _Ever again. _Even if she knew it was entirely impossible since he was always at school, it didn't hurt to hope. Her thoughts were cut off by the teacher, who cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"C-Class," the glasses-wearing man started after gulping visibly, "T-This is Hayato Gokudera; he came here all the way from Italy, so please—erm, please make him feel welcome..."

At that moment, all the girls in the class broke out in admiring giggles, commenting on how much of 'hunk' he looked like and how his rebellious image was so cool and what not; she resisted the urge to gag—what the heck was so special about him that girls found so charming? Sure, the guy was cute, _but did they not see what he was about to do to her earlier? _He was about to punch (well, maybe not real punches, but he was punching her _verbally _with his insults; she was sure verbal punches hurt as much as physical punches do) the living daylights out of her!

_**Of course they didn't see that! They were too blinded by his 'hotness,' YUCK! **_

Her sharp gaze never left his form even when he was told to sit in the back—wait a second. She looked to her left and to her right; there were no empty desks...what did the teacher mean by the back—_oh no. _No, no, no, nononononono! She resisted the urge to scream in frustration; _there was only _one _seat in this entire room that _wasn't _occupied and that seat was right behind _her's. She didn't want him there; and by the looks of the jerk's—_Hayato Gokudera, _she inwardly seethed—face, the feeling was probably mutual. The kid was bound to stir up some trouble—true to her word, he didn't even make it to his seat.

He had stopped at Tsuna's desk and stared him down with hate-filled eyes—the scared look on the brunette's face told her that he didn't even know what the heck was happening. And when Tsuna's trembling form was sent to the ground roughly along with his whole desk _for no actual reason_ (which was all caused by that silver-haired jerk), she knew this kid was up to no good. And she didn't care about what other girl's squealed about, saying that his rude actions only added to his bad-boy charm—he had no right to be doing those kinds of things.

No matter how badly she wanted to re-arrange his stupid scowling face (even more so with the whole class watching—she didn't care, he deserved it), she couldn't get suspended just for punching the new kid in the face. So she sat in her seat, fighting the temptation to do anything she'd regret later—the only thing she could do was glare at his passing form as he did the same to her. _Just what the hell is his problem? _

Class that day was a bit boring—everyone was a bit tired out from earlier in the morning, except for Tsuna, who was shaking in his desk. She raised an eye brow; _what was wrong with him? _But, judging from the dark aura that surrounded the boy behind her, it probably had something to do with him. Her eye twitched; why didn't he just give it a break already? Geeze, the guy had done nothing the whole time besides glaring at the brunette while doing the work the teacher had passed out. How he was able to glare and concentrate on all the work in class at the same time, she didn't want to know (and didn't want to care)—all she knew was that something was bound to happen between the two.

Once class was over, she nearly groaned; she had a volleyball game to attend to. And as she walked out of class to grab her gym uniform, she couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes glaring daggers at her retreating back.

_Things were not going to end well._

* * *

><p>Sighing to herself, she dusted off the imaginary lint off of her blue gym pants as she made her way to the gym (<em>hm, that place is really popular lately<em>) with a small frown marring her face—for one thing, the knee pads (for extra precautions! Mother hen would worry and possibly sue the school!) that were hidden behind the fabric of her pants were becoming itchier and itchier with each step she took; unfortunately, she ignored it for the sake of not looking like an idiot in public. Her elbow guards—which were a gift from her mom one her fourteenth birthday—sat comfortably on her elbows, moving along with her arms with no problem.

Her hair (which was usually held back by her red ribbon) was put up into a pony tail so that it wouldn't get in her eyes, the red ribbon resting in her bag back in the lockers; it felt awkward without it, as if her bangs would fall into her face any moment and the feeling of _not _having her forehead exposed after a set number of years doubled the amount of awkwardness. But that was quickly brushed aside when she had found out about the current predicament.

Gokudera had somehow managed to be a player in the volleyball match and that irked her to no end—if the only thing he was going to do was stand at the sidelines and glare at Tsuna with all his might without even lending a hand in the play, then he would be useless and even _with _the reserves playing, the team would still be one player short. Because of this, Tsuna would probably caught off-guard with the boy's harsh treatment and would be distracted the whole time. She scoffed to herself silently; _great, we're going to lose today. All because of boy problems._

She never really understood boys, really—they were just too weird, too complicated to handle. She had remembered a boy from her childhood who's name escaped her, who had teased her almost every single day in class. He always insulted her on everything she did, always making her cry, always picking on her for her pink hair. He did that for a year—but then he suddenly just stopped, and even if she was relived, it confused her greatly. Then one day, he had come up to her and told her he liked her a lot. She had told her mom (who, predictably, started flipping out and threatened to sue his family for sexual harassment), asking how a boy who seemed like he hated her like her. Her mom had told her that when a boy teased a girl, it meant that they liked her.

_**JUST WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU TEASE THE GIRL YOU LIKE? **_

Shaking her head in frustration, she pushed open the door to the gym and was met with the loud cheers from the students; past the crowd, she saw Yamamoto, (for once, she was thankful he was so tall; he could see over the heads of students) who gestured her energetically with a bright smile lacing his features. She nodded, her face set in determination; _boy problems or not, she was going to make sure that she'd make her master proud! _If she needed to build stamina, then playing with her all was what she was going to do.

After pushing her way into the crowd, she made it to the net and was greeted by the other members, taking her place next to the tall dark-haired boy. She bit her lip; everyone else was much taller than her, and she wasn't even sure if she knew how to play volleyball...she shook her head—she couldn't think like that! Being small didn't hinder anyone and all she had to do was hit the ball inside the lines...right? Her eye twitched; _she was doomed. _(_Oh, Tsunade-shishou, why do you hate me so?_)

Once the match had started, she quietly analyzed how the other players played; so she was right! She grinned to herself; hit the ball and make sure the other team doesn't hit it back—if it hits the ground, you lose, if it doesn't, keep hitting until someone misses—_easy peasy. _And so, when it was her turn to hit it, she felt a spark of excitement—_this was it! _It was her moment to shine...the ball was coming at her quickly; not wanting to lose her chance, she straightened her arms and prepared to hit. With each centimeter the ball came closer, her heart beat sped up; _closer, closer, closer..._THERE!

The second the leather ball came in contact with the skin of her forearm, she cringed (but sucked it up because her master trained her better than that) and returned it with high hopes that it would be the winning hit—

—only for it to come in contact with the net. Her pride that was beginning to well up left as soon as it came, and her form visibly deflated; _damn, _she missed completely. With that loss, she looked down at the floor, crest-fallen, rubbing her forearm so that the stinging sensation would go away. Because of her, the whole team missed a chance of gaining a point and she felt like absolute _crap _about it. Maybe she should just leave; she didn't really know how to play, anyway—it would benefit the whole team and would probably raise their chances of winning.

_She was useless. _

Before her thoughts could stray any further, a hand gently clasped her shoulder, causing her to look up from her dejection and into the amber eyes of Yamamoto, who—amazingly—was _smiling _down at her along with the rest of the members (save Gokudera, who stood a good few feet away from them with crossed arms and his never-ending scowl). Biting her lip, she avoided their eye contact and shifted uncomfortably on her feet, "I'm sorry. We missed a point because of me." _I truly am pathetic..._

She had expected to be scolded at for being dumb and not thinking before she played—she expected to be insulted, to be told to leave, to be told that she couldn't do anything right. Becuase of that, she had braced herself for the on-coming onslaught of criticism, scrutiny, reprimands, but she was caught-off guard when the tall boy simply laughed and patted her back softly. At this action, she furrowed her brow in confusion and looked up (he was SO tall) with her head tilted to the side. Why was he laughing at her? Was it because she lost a point or something?

"Sakura, don't be too hard on yourself!" He said good-heartedly, "There's always the next one, so don't be so sad about it. We've got four more rounds, so just do your best!"

_What? _She eyed the team in front of her, watching as their faces broke out into encouraging smiles and grins before looking back at Yamamoto, who beamed at her; so they weren't mad at her for that? After one more look around her team mates, she concluded that they weren't—not one bit. As to why, she didn't know—but she was still grateful for it. With their smiles, she couldn't help but feel a bit more confident with herself now that she knew she wouldn't be put down if she missed; like Yamamoto had said, there were still four more rounds to go, and they were still on the first one. _**I'll show them that I can do it, SHANNARO!**_

So, with her lips curling upwards into a confident and determined grin, she straightened her posture from her dejected slump and into a person who was ready for anything and nodded, her emerald eyes blazing, "Right! Let's do this!" En_couragement instead of _dis_couragement? Boys were _so_ weird. _(And for the first time in her life, she was happy that they were so weird—but she'd deny it a thousand times later on.)

Throughout the rest of the round, she was on a roll—with a few hits there and a few saves there, and with each cheer she eliceted from the crowd, her confidence boosted. But even with her hits and saves, they were still loosing; the whole team was counting on Tsuna, but without the Deathperation shot, she knew he wasn't capable of doing it. She rolled her eyes; some day that boy wouldn't be able to count on those things and that he had to deal with the situation himself, not with the help of some red bullet that made people practically naked.

For the past ten minutes, Tsuna had taken a few hard hits to the face, leaving red marks on his cheeks and forehead, and now the whole crowd seemed a bit dead due to the lack of action the boy was giving. She resisted the urge to sigh; _man, if he wanted to win the match then he needed to man up. _But for some odd reason, the thought of seeing a Tsuna with a backbone and an attitude really scared her—it just didn't seem right...shaking off the thought, she prepared to hit when she saw someone on the opposite team serve the ball to her right, probably towards Yamamoto. She pouted; just when the heck were they going to serve to _her?_

"Sakura-chan, watch out!"

At the alarmed tone of Tsuna's voice, she lifted her head in quick attention only to see the volleyball coming her way—

(She really needed to be careful of what she wished for.)

The leathery surface of the ball came in contact with her face, the sound echoing through the now-quiet gym and the only thing that was running through her mind was, '_**SCREW BEING RECKLESS! I'M GONNA CHAKRA-SERVE THEIR ASSES!**_' And with that, she was sent flying backwards onto the ground, her whole front facing the ceiling as her hands flew up to her face to cradle the spot where it had been hit—with each second, the stinging turned into a searing pain that summoned tears to the corners of her eyes which threatened to fall. Secretly sending chakra to her palms, she numbed out the stinging sensation in mere seconds and gritted her teeth.

_Someone was going to pay for that. _Oh, she was so pissed—and so, when the stinging was gone, her temper had hit her full-force; _someone...WAS GOING TO PAY! _With her fists clenched at her sides, she pushed herself off of the ground and ignored the concerned gazes of her team mates as she calmly dusted herself off. Walking off to the side, she brushed off the worried calls of Tsuna and Yamamoto and picked up the ball that was left at the side and stood in the middle of the front row. She whipped her head in the direction of the referee, who practically jumped at the sheer intensity of her stare.

"It's our turn to serve, right?" Even if it was a question, she wouldn't take no as an answer—therefore, she heightened the threat in her stare, making the older man nod quickly. She then turned her head to her team mates—who all wore identical faces of fright (save for Yamamoto, who's eye brows were raised in question of her sudden change in attitude and Gokudera)—and gave them the same stare she gave the referee, tossing the ball to the tall boy casually, _"I'm switching to the front row." _She made sure no one would argue with her.

And they didn't—they simply nodded and went to their respective places, arms straightened and prepared to return a hit. The other team, she noted, was a bit reluctant about the whole thing—especially the one who served the last hit—and she inwardly grinned; _she was going to make them wished they never joined volleyball in the first place._

"Begin!" The referee called, and as soon as the word left his mouth, her emerald eyes glinted dangerously.

_"_Shan..."

Yamamoto served the ball.

"...na..."

She jumped high—all eyes were focused on her as she pulled her hand back.

_"...RO!" _

BAM!

Everyone watched in wonder and fear as the ball whizzed past the other team and onto the open space between the server's legs—the other team didn't even have time to move, and for that, the pinkette felt the edges of her lips twitch up into a satisfied smirk; _no one hits Sakura Haruno and gets away with it._

* * *

><p>Reborn watched in interest as the pink-haired apprentice of the Slug Princess spiked the ball with her eyes blazing with fury—no doubt angry from getting hit in the face unexpectedly. From what he gathered from Tsunade, she was a field medic and an excellent fighter, with great chakra control and a wide variety of skills that would be useful in the mafia world. She was very intelligent and was a quick learner, but lacked the and the stamina and the ability to understand others—although, Tsunade had said she had the stamina part covered.<p>

"Sakura Haruno," the adult-turned-baby muttered to himself quietly, relaying the information to himself for future reference, "With her cheerful and pleasant disposition along with her short temper and strength, she'd make an excellent candidate for the Vongola Family. Even though her skills still need a bit sharpening up, she is becoming to be like her mentor—she would also be suitable for being a mafioso wife."

His gaze trailed after the tall dark-haired 14-year-old that returned a serve, "Takeshi Yamamoto; not only does he have the natural ability and magnetism to draw people in, and his physical strength would also benefit the family. It seems that Tsuna has already made friends with them." Down below, the said boy was being patted on the back by the pink-haired girl and the dark-haired boy, both of them with re-assuring smiles on their faces while the brunette looked at them with an embarrassed expression, scratching the back of his head.

Leon transformed into a sniper and he looked into the scope, aiming for the boy's head once the other two had gone to strategize with the other members—no doubt, Sakura would be the permanently set at the front row. Through the scope, Tsuna's expression changed into that of realization, the aura around him suddenly changing as he walked towards his team. The hitman smiled, "Now that he understands that he needs to play as if his life depended on it, he won't be needing the desperation shot."

Taking out a pair of blue bullets from his pocket, he loaded them into the sniper and aimed at the boy's legs, "Eat lead!"

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p>"YEAH! We won!"<p>

Cheers erupted from the gym when the referee announced the winning team—which was, surprisingly, class 1-A—and Sakura couldn't help but feel satisfied with herself. She was put at the front row and had discovered that she was good at blocking (she herself did not know that; her instincts had simply told her to hit the ball if it ever came over the net on her side), and if her master and Shizune (maybe even her mom) ever saw the match, they would've been proud.

During the match, Tsuna's abilities suddenly sky-rocketed (she sweatdropped; probably had something to do with Reborn since she saw something blue flash in the sky and towards the brunette) and he was able to jump 6 or 7 feet into the air with no trouble at all—much to everyone's disbelief. Throughout the next three matches, she was busying herself blocking hits that were headed her way while Tsuna jumped into the air and did a 'crotch block,' as the crowd had dubbed it. She grimaced; that _had _to hurt, seeing as she herself experienced getting hit in the face and to say that it hurt _a lot _was an understatement.

She smiled; she wasn't so useless after all.

With that, she felt excited and pleased, and squealed to herself as she ran towards Tsuna and Yamamoto, giving them quick hugs and laughing to her heart's content. She was just so happy and so proud that she couldn't help it—and when she saw their bewildered faces as she pulled away, she laughed even more, "C' mon you guys, we won!" It took them a few moments before they began to laugh along with her, and soon, she was cheering alongside the brunette and the tall boy, her stomach erupting into a warm and tingly feeling as she patted the two on their backs.

After a few more minutes of smiling like an idiot at receiving congratulatory pats on the back from the crowd and team mates, she excused herself to the bathrooms, where she changed out of her gym clothes, stuffing them away into her yellow messenger bag and slipping back into her clean and fresh uniform. She grimaced at the sight of her appearance in one of the mirrors, washing her hands as she did so; she looked absolutely _terrible! _Her hair—which was now back into her usual do of being held back by her favorite red ribbon—had creased from the hair tie, making it wavy and tangled up with a few strands of her bangs sticking to her cheeks. Her forehead was still a bit red from the ball, she looked a bit too pale for her own liking, and she felt utterly disgusted with being covered in dried sweat.

_**I SMELL NAAAASTY! **__As soon as I get home, I am going to take a _LONG _shower_. Sighing, she stalked out of the bathroom and spotted Tsuna down the hall, already changed out of his clothes and into his uniform. Waving, she ran up to him and beamed, "You did great out there, Tsuna!" As they walked, he gave her a small smile (she suspiciously noted it had not reached his eyes the slightest bit; she wondered to herself what was wrong with him.)

"Y-You too, Sakura-chan," he murmured, turning his attention back to the surroundings with his face scrunched up in thought. She raised an eye brow; _yeah, there was definitely something wrong. _Maybe it had something to do with Gokudera—before she had left, she distantly heard the silver-haired boy making a comment to Tsuna, which got him caught-off guard. Her hands fisted, tightening their hold on the straps of her bag; there was just something off about that kid that didn't make her stomach sit well—sure, the kid had an attitude problem, but there was something else that made her mind nag a bit. And because of that, she felt the need to stay by Tsuna's side should that guy ever try to do anything stupid.

They had found themselves behind one of the school's buildings after more aimless walking and he still hadn't said another word; she couldn't help it—curiosity got the best of her and she wanted to know why he was acting like that. Slowly coming to a stop, she grabbed Tsuna's wrist in a firm yet gentle grip, making him squeak out in surprise; once she was sure there weren't any eavesdroppers, she turned back to him with concern lacing her features, "Tsuna, is something wrong?"

For a moment, he stared at her with surprised eyes before shaking his head, "No, I'm fine." Her brow furrowed; _he was lying. _

"Are you—" She was cut off by the sounds of footsteps from the direction they had come from; almost immediately, her head snapped to the side and was met with the sight of Gokudera, who stood a few meters away from them with his hands crossed over his chest—he certainly did not look the least bit happy. Her gaze narrowed and she let go of the now pale-looking brunette, standing with her fists at her side—_he was not a good sign. _Her hands slowly inched towards the black leather gloves which were stuffed into one of the side-pockets of her bag.

"G-Gokudera-kun?" The boy behind her stammered out while the said boy took a few steps closer and closer—he stopped when he was practically in front of them, sending dangerous glances at her and Tsuna. Clenching her hands, she looked at him apprehensively with her brow furrowed, "Did you need something, Gokudera-san?"(She had the sudden urge to call him 'jerk' and 'idiot,' but he had a name and she was going to be _respectful _of that, even _if _he wasn't doing the same.)

"I don't know what the Vongola family is doing naming _you_ as their boss," he jeered, staring him down and completely ignoring the pink-haired girl. The said girl bristled when he ignored her—_wait, _what? Her eyes widened, all anger flying out the window and being replaced by fear; Gokudera...was in the _mafia?_ She connected the dots from the incident between Tsuna and the silver-haired boy eariler that morning; so _that _was why he didn't like Tsuna! He didn't think he was fit to be the next boss. Before she could ponder on her new revelation, the taller boy said coolly, "You're nothing but scum—you'll be the cause of the Vongola Family's downfall."

"So you're in the mafia, too?" Her question wasn't a question at all; she was certain he was in the mafia. Their heads whipped in her direction, surprise written on their faces, but she had no time to explain or to be asked questions—what she really wanted to know was what his business was in Namimori. "What are you doing here?"

"Tch. It has nothing to do with you, pinky." Her eye twitched, and she did all she could from wringing his neck altogether.

"Look, Gokudera-san, it has _everything _to do with me," she began slowly, sending him a small glare, "I'm his _ally_, so I'm supposed to help out whenever Tsuna's in trouble. I'm sure you didn't come _all_ the way to Japan just to tell him that he isn't good enough to be the boss." Tsuna's confused expression did not go unnoticed by her; she could tell him about her alliance any other day _besides _right now, and right now she was doing business with a possible threat. And should he be a possible threat, she was formulating plans of escaping: chakra-enhanced running, being a distraction, and using feminine advantages (though the last one was her last resort; she'd never stoop so low as to use something as vile as that unless the situation called for it).

She felt a bit smug when he went silent, staring down at her intently—she would not back down; she wouldn't be useless. If this guy wanted to pummel Tsuna to the ground, she wasn't going to watch from the sidelines and let him do as he pleased—she was going to be a darn good ally and help, whether or not she got severely injured or mentally scarred, she'd do it. She was sure her master would've done the same. She held his gaze unwaveringly; _she was going to make her proud. _

And it was probably because she was so stubborn that he looked away with a scowl and turned his attention back to the shorter boy, "You're pathetic—relying on your allies to bail you out of a tough situation?" His hands flew into his back pockets and her eyes widened when she realized what he had took out; in his ringed hands were something that looked like a pair of orange _dynamite. _She visibly gulped and hardened her gaze while pulling out her gloves, tugging them on quickly, and taking a cautious step back with Tsuna by her side. Gokudera's eyes were dangerously narrowed as he spoke once more, "You should just _die_."

Her shoulders tensed and she prepared to run off with Tsuna, but before anyone could take action, a figure jumped down from its perch on a nearby tree's brach, landing on Tsuna's bushy head of hair; a familiar baby-ish voice interrupted, "So you're Hayato Gokudera. This has to be the first time I meet you face-to-face." The boy he was standing on let out a cry of confusion; she was also confused. How did Reborn know him? Craning her neck, she spotted Reborn—in all his weird-cute-mafia glory—standing on Tsuna's head as if it were the most natural thing to do. The baby continued, hands clasped behind his back—even if he wasn't looking directly at her, he answered her unvoiced question, "I had him summoned from Italy with permission from the Vongola."

"And you're Reborn," the silver-haired boy replied with a hard face, "I've heard stories about you and how you're the ninth's most trusted hitman, but I never got a chance to meet you in person, either." Her emerald eyes trailed over to the baby with raised eye brows; _most trusted hitman? So he's even more dangerous than I thought. _She mentally snorted; now would be the right time to say, 'never judge a book by its cover.'

"There was a rule I heard," Gokudera said coldly, turning his gaze to the trembling boy; the look in his eyes made her tense up once more, "That if I were to kill him...I'd take his place as the tenth Vongola boss." _KILL? _Gritting her teeth, she pulled Tsuna behind her and glared fiercely, eying him out as he tightened his grip on the dynamite. She mentally growled; _he wouldn't dare. _If he thought killing him would be easy as pie, then he had another thing coming—if he wanted Tsuna, he had to go through _her _first!

"What? No! Reborn, I-I thought you said you came here to train me! We're you lying this whole time?" The boy behind her yelped.

"No, I wasn't lying. But if you want to live, I suggest you fight back."

She prepared for any hit that was coming her way when she saw Gokudera take a step forward while Tsuna continued to panic, "Are you _joking? _I can't fight the mafia!" Before she knew it, she was being pulled by him, his hand grasping her wrist tightly as they ran as fast as they could and away from Reborn and Gokudera, who stood in their previous spot and watched as the two run. Suddenly, she heard something sizzling whiz above their heads—her eyes widened at the sight of the burning stick of dynamite a few feet away. Not wanting to get injured, she skidded to a halt, making Tsuna yell out in surprise and causing him to fall to the ground, off-balance—unfortunately, that caused her to fall to.

"Ouch..." she said, rubbing her scraped chin tenderly. The brunette was propped up on his elbows right next to her, staring at the spot where they would've been to blown death if Sakura hadn't stopped. Pushing herself off the ground, she quickly fixed her bag over her shoulder (she was too preoccupied with surviving to heal her injured chin) and took a defensive stance next to Tsuna, who had scrambled to his feet with fear etched into his features after looking over his shoulders to see the other boy advancing towards them with even more dynamite in hand. She bit her lip—Gokudera wasn't going to let them run off so easily.

"So he specializes in dynamite and explosions," she muttered to herself, taking in the new information and thinking up strategies on battling him without killing him. In order to kill, he had to throw a lit dynamite stick at the right time or else his plan would fail. If he became careless (which she doubted he would, seeing as he was a hitman), it could lead to him killing himself or killing innocent people. Unable to play in wet weather due to the water snuffing it out. With each idea, his steps became closer, and he stopped when he was looming over them.

Through her peripheral vision, Reborn took the empty space next to Tsuna, "As Sakura said, Gokudera's specialty lies in the explosions field; his body littered with concealed dynamite." She immediately took mental notes, keeping the newly-acquired information in her head.

The taller boy stood proudly with a small smirk, "Back in Italy, I was known as 'Hurricane Bomb Hayato.' Now...prepare to die." That was all she needed; hearing the dynamite light themselves (_**how the hell does it do that?**_), she snatched the boy next to her by his collar, throwing his arm over her shoulder and holding him tightly before sprinting towards the building besides them. Behind her, she heard Gokudera swear, followed by the sound of sizzling—the dynamite landed a few feet back and exploded on impact, the explosion causing her to be blown towards the wall. Next to her, Tsuna screamed.

But instead of hitting the wall face-first, she stuck her foot out and concentrated on sending chakra to her feet; as soon as it made contact with the cement of the building, she ran up and _defied gravity_—unfortunately, the explosions did not waver, following her close behind one after another_. _She saw Tsuna gawking at her (he had said something like, "How are you doing this?" but she couldn't really tell with all the noise) but she brushed if off to make a sharp right turn. She inwardly cheered; _an escape! _She could roof jump away, and the plan was bullet-proof—no one got hurt, it was the safest way... until a close-to-exploding dynamite landed in her line of sight. She blanched; _he's got the timing right_—_damn, this was going to be harder than I thought._

"Crap!"

Instead of back-tracking like she had originally planned, she was a few seconds too late and the dynamite exploded (it was a wonder how it did not leave a scratch on the building), making her lose her balance and, ultimately, her concentration. Her foot slipped underneath her; in the next few moments, she had found herself falling from the sky with the brunette clutching onto her for dear life—not only that, but the other boy below had thrown at least eight more dynamite in the air and towards her. _Oh no, oh no, oh no..._

Holding onto Tsuna's arm and shoulder, she quickly weaved through the explosions (some nearly blowing her head off in the process) and landed softly on her feet and onto the ground below, her brow furrowed and her face scrunched up in concentration; _he almost got me..._

They didn't even have time to rest—Gokudera had suddenly appeared before them with even _more _dynamite in his hands (she mentally pursed her lips; just how many dynamite did he have, anyway? Surely there wouldn't be _that _much...), trapping them between him and the wall and looking even more ticked off than before, "I'll make sure to end you with _this!_" With that, he threw the lit sticks.

She was about to make a run for it again when the boy next to her nearly flew into the sticks, yelling out, "No, no! Put them out!"

Her eye twitched; _**not with your bare hands, idiot! **_But he did, and a few seconds after covering the sizzling line, he pulled back with red hands that were probably stinging and burning; tears began to form at the corner of his eyes, screaming about how hot it was. She resisted the urge to let out a, 'no duh!' but it wasn't the time to think about such frivolities. Her brow knitted together in frustration; if they didn't move now, they were sure to become chunks of skin, muscle, organs and blood on the floor—if they were to run in any direction, Gokudera was sure to trap them again with his dynamites, and even if she ran up the wall, he'd still trap them. She bit her lip; _damn, think, Sakura, think!_

"Oh? What kinds of fireworks are these? There aren't any festivals being celebrated right now." Her head whipped to the side (Tsuna did also), only for her jaw to drop when she saw Yamamoto, who stood with his head tilted in curiosity as he eyed a sizzling orange stick in his hands—_**HOLY COW, THAT WAS A DYNAMITE! **_Next to her, Tsuna seemed to voice her inner opinion with a, "YAMAMOTO, DON'T HOLD ONTO THAAAAAT!"

Something whizzed in the air—and Sakura knew it was certainly not the dynamite, for there were no sizzling accompanying the object. And then, Tsuna had suddenly dropped to the floor beside her. She let out a sigh of relief—that could only mean one thing; he was shot with the Deathperation bullet. After a few more moments of lying on the ground, he had lifted himself up, his clothes burning off in the process (she wondered why that always happened; it probably had something to do with the flame on his forehead) and clenched his fists near his face, pupils small and his aura changing.

"I'll put out those dynamite as if my life depended on it!" Almost immediately, he began to snuff out the lit dynamite with his bare hands, starting with the one Yamamoto had in his hands and catching the dark-haired boy off guard. She tilted her head to the side, eyes gazing at Yamamoto in question as he watched Tsuna quickly work to put out the dynamite—Gokudera had chalked up twice as much explosives he had last time and threw it at the brunette. _Wasn't Yamamoto suspicious about all of this? _

"Hey Sakura, is this some kind of game?" She blinked at the boy next to her, who stood watching the event play out in front of him with his amber eyes lit up in fascination and excitement; right now, Tsuna had finished the second batch of explosives and the silver-haired boy brought out even more, his face scrunched up in anger. Looking back at the tall boy with a small, nervous smile, she lied through her teeth in hopes that he wouldn't tell anyone about what was happening or else others would get suspicious, "Y-Yeah! Tsuna and Gokudera-san were playing a game earlier and right now, I think...uhm, Tsuna is winning...?" _Great lying skills, Sakura._

For a moment, he stayed silent, and Sakura began to fidget skittishly with the hems of her skirt; what if he didn't believe her lie? It wasn't a very good lie, she knew that, but it was all she could think of at the moment. She gulped before biting her lip; what was wrong with him? Why was he so quiet? Her mind began to fill up with the worst case scenarios: Yamamoto telling the teachers, Yamamoto telling the authorities, Yamamoto telling the teachers _and _the authorities...the list went on and on and with each scenario, her fear grew. What would happen if—

"Haha, that looks fun!" Before she could stop him, the tall boy stalked off in the direction of the two boys—the Deathperation shot had already worn off, rendering Tsuna back to his old self while Gokudera was on his knees, his face lit up with a big smile (she admitted when he wasn't scowling, he looked even cuter) and wide, dreamy eyes, his mouth moving but she wasn't able to hear at such a distance. Enhancing her hearing with a small amount of chakra, she slowly made her way over to them, concentrating on their conversation.

_"B-Boss! My life is in your hands_—_you saved my life, even if I was the enemy. You really do deserve the title as a Vongola Boss," _Gokudera said, causing Tsuna to become puzzled at his exclamation, _"I was just testing your abilities, to see if you were capable of taking the title. I never intended to kill you anyway. But you exeeded my expectations _completely_! I, Hayato Gokudera, will be of service to you whenever you want!" _Her eye brows shot up to her hairline as she got closer, her chakra receding from her ears since she was already at a good hearing distance. _So he had no intention of killing Tsuna? That's good to hear as long as he doesn't cause anymore trouble..._

"B-But...that's a bit too much, Gokudera-kun! Can't we just settle for being classmates instead?"

The boy's emerald eyes narrowed dangerously, "No." Softly giggling to herself at his blunt statement, she remembered Tsuna had burnt himself earlier from the first dynamite he had tried to snuff out and ran to him, crouching to his height and grabbing his hands for examination. She ignored Tsuna's flushed cry of, "Sakura-chan, what are you doing?" and Gokudera's outburst of, "Oi, pinky, what are you doing with boss?" and continued to look at his hands; the burns on them weren't so bad, the skin being red, and would be easy for her to heal. Summoning chakra to her hands—which were still gently holding onto Tsuna's—she concentrated on healing the inflammation and lowering the slight swelling. The silver-haired boy made a sharp intake of breath.

"T-That's...isn't that Tsunade-hime's (her master's name rolled awkwardly off of his tongue) legendary _medical ninjutsu_...?" Sakura's eyes widened a fraction in surprise, her head lifting up to see a gawking silver-haired boy that stared at her glowing hands—she was about to reply when he continued, "How do you know such a technique? The last time I heard, she was sent away on a mission by the ninth."

"It is her technique," she smiled proudly, taking her hands away from Tsuna's. The said boy expected it with a few clenching and un-clenching before staring at her with amazed eyes and a grateful smile. "She taught it to me herself."

She stood up, dusting her skirt off of any dirt and offered a hand to Tsuna, who gratefully accepted with his face still slack-jawed in awe; they probably had a lot of questions, and she was willing to answer...just on another day. She _really _needed a shower. To her surprise, Reborn once again landed (out of nowhere, she noted to herself) on the brunette's head with a notebook and pen out, "You did great today Tsuna—not only did Gokudera become one of you soldiers, but you didn't rely on the Deathperation shot. And because of that, you passed for the day."

"Hey Tsuna, you have to let me in on your game! You guys look like you're having so much fun!" Through her peripheral vision, Yamamoto—who was watching from the sidelines in slight confusion—slung an arm around the brunette's shoulders with a mirth-filled smile plastered on his face, causing the shorter boy to nearly topple over at the sudden weight. As Gokudera began to demand what the taller boy was talking about and why he was so friendly with Tsuna, she giggled and sweatdropped at the same time, an awkward smile lacing her pale features; she had forgotten about Yamamoto, and the thought of telling Tsuna and Gokudera about this little 'game' did not seem to cross her. She sighed—_oh well. Hopefully nothing else could go wrong._

"Oh? Sakura, do you want to play, too?" Blinking, she brought her gaze up and was met with stares—brown eyes eying her apologetically (for reasons unknown, probably because Yamamoto had dragged her into the 'game' conflict), amber eyes staring back at her with excitement, and emerald eyes gazing at her in irritation. For a moment, she debated on whether or not she should answer. And so, as a small smile made it's way to her face, she nodded happily—which startled Tsuna and Gokudera—pink hair bouncing as she did so, "Of course! But Yamamoto-kun, I've kind of been playing since the beginning."

She awaited their reactions: Tsuna's face relaxed into a small smile, eying her gratefully; Yamamoto blinked before breaking out in a fit of satisfied laughs; Gokudera's lips twitched into a small scowl. Remembering about her current situation—which was very urgent; smelling like trash was _not _feminine, and would never be in a million years—she giggled one last time before spinning on her heels and sprinting away, looking over her shoulder and waving her hand in the air as she did so, "I gotta go! I'll see you three tomorrow!"

Not waiting for their response, she turned a corner and smiled to herself softly, running towards the direction of her house; _well, maybe things wouldn't turn out bad after all. _ She missed the pair of eyes that gazed at her sharply, watching her retreating form become smaller until she disappeared altogether.

* * *

><p><em>I haven't said this in the last chapter, but I greatly appreciate all your reviews—and I thank all of you for reading my fanfic. Right now, I have over 400 hits, and I was completely ectastic to discover that! So yeah, thank you all, :) Also, I deeply apologize with the lack of romance as of right now, ;-; I'm not really a good romance writer, but I try my best to make them. Keep on the look out for the next chapter—I don't know when I'll be finished with it since I'm starting school next week (wish me luck~), but hopefully I'll still be able to update as much as I can. <em>

(I do not own Naruto or Katekyo Hitman Reborn—I simply make fanfiction for them.)


	4. the new definition of normal

Shopping day—the only day where she could _actually _be a normal teenage girl for once.

And as Sakura carried a bag in each of her hands that were filled with exactly two winter coats, three zip-up jackets, two pairs of jeans, one skirt, one pair of stockings, one pair of boots, and two pairs of gloves, she smiled to herself in content, walking—practically skipping—out of her favorite store, which was crowded with people of all ages because of their annual clearance sale; it was ridiculous, really, their prices would be cut down to nearly ninety-five percent off, and the total amount of money spent she had gotten from all those clothes had been a mere thirty-five dollars. She inwardly sighed; _she loved days like these._

The coats were beautiful, with one being red with big buttons while the other was beige with a few zippers and a hood, and would be great for the up-coming snowy days. Jackets for the rainy weather, two of them different shades of red (mahogany and scarlet, she presumed) while one was a pretty shade of periwinkle (she always _loved _saying that!). One pair of dark blue skinny jeans that would look great with any of the shirts she had back at home, and a pair of black capris that would look cute with her usual teal sneakers.

A white-lined red skirt that ended just above her knees for easy movement. A pair of white stockings that would go with her skirt (and would save her the embarrassment of people accidentally seeing her underwear). A pair of brown boots to walk in the snow with. And last but not least, two pairs of knit gloves to make some snowballs with, both of them different shades of red.

_Yes, her favorite color was red_—and regardless of what people said about it, it did _not _clash with her pink hair. Her namesake and hair color signified fragile and delicate flowers that did not live long lives—which she despised—and red was the total opposite, meaning aggressiveness and intense passion. She huffed to herself as she passed a coffee shop, the bitter smell of ground coffee beans invading her nose; the people that said red clashed with her hair were crazy, and had no sense of fashion what-so-ever (well, maybe a few of them that had said that had some great sense of style, but the rest didn't!), but in her eyes it looked fine.

Now..._where was she? _Looking around, she found herself near a few unrecognizable shops that she had never visited before, but shrugged it off carelessly with a small smile; _did it matter? _All that mattered was that she still had a few bucks left and she wouldn't let it go to waste. (And that it had to be the best day of her life!)

Her mom had permitted her to go shopping for clothes _alone _this time (it was possible, really, with much compensation and puppy dog eyes), and it felt great to get out of the house without being involved with Tsuna's mafia-related predicaments. Today was _her _day and _her _day alone—nothing would ever ruin it, not one thing. There were no mother hens, no old bats, no practice, no running buddies, no hitmen, no talking babies, _nothing at all_ and it felt absolutely ecstatic. Sure, she had to admit it was thrilling to be running around with a cowardly boy, a cheerful baseball player, and a short-tempered exchange student (not so much with the latter, though), but she needed a break; _when was the last time she was by herself, anyway? _Yesterday, but _truly_ by herself—to think about things, to ponder on her life.

Today was the day that she'd have all to herself and nothing would stop that.

Humming softly, she swung her arms happily at her sides, thinking about what else she had planned for the rest of the day; she'd probably go window-shopping for a bit (oh, she had seen an absolutely _beautiful _jacket that would look cute with her shorts at home), then go on and get some lunch, maybe visit Cake and Bread for some _free _cake (being the daughter of the shop's oldest and closest cashier had it's quirks), then probably go home.

Hopefully when she went home, her mom wouldn't bombard her with questions and what not (but that was highly impossible since she had threatened to ground her should she ever be seen with a boy). Hopefully she wouldn't run into anyone mafia-related so that she could have some sanity left—

"Yo, Sakura!" _But things never really went her way, did it? _

_**JUST WHEN THE DAY WAS STARTING SO GOOD, TOO! Who's the jerk that dare ruin my day? **_

Resisting the temptation to sigh in annoyance, she spun on her heel and searched the crowd of strangers for a familiar face that may have called out to her—and there he was, towering over their heads with his bright smile lacing his handsome face. Her eye brows shot to her hairline in surprise; _what was he doing here? __**And I take back what I said! Yamamoto-kun surely isn't a jerk, and he did the total **_**opposite **_**of ruining my day~ **_She waved as his tall form strolled closer, returning his smile with one of her own, "Good morning, Yamamoto-kun!"

Takeshi Yamamoto—probably the tallest boy in their grade, and with his nice-guy attitude and personality, he was pretty popular amongst his peers. She inwardly giggled; nice _and _handsome? If she was the hormonal 12-year-old she used to be, then she'd be stalking him like there was no tomorrow. Boys nowadays were rare in this combination (only in Namimori; she never really tried checking out other boys anywhere else), she admitted, and that he was a one-of-a-kind boy—he was talented in sports, he was pretty smart (the only reason he wasn't doing so good in class was because he was focused in baseball and she knew this because she had to work with him before in class), and he was a cheerful guy.

But he was a clueless boy, that one. The day before had been rather hectic, and he had probably seen the whole battle with Gokudera—_that wasn't a good thing. _She'd thought he'd be a bit suspicious of why the heck the silver-haired boy had bombs (which were being thrown and her and Tsuna; which could have _killed _them and blow them into bits) but _no_—instead, he was actually _interested _if what they were doing was a _game_ and asked if he could join in on the fun. At that moment, she questioned his sanity.

She mentally scoffed; what had happened was definitely not fun (but for Gokudera it probably was since he was the one throwing the dynamites and watching as her and Tsuna run for their lives)—it was a life-threatening situation, and there would be many more in the future. If he was going to play (and he certainly would _not_—she wouldn't let anyone else get involved or die, especially someone like him who didn't deserve the consequences), then he'd better know how to _survive_.

When he was arm's length away, she looked up at him with a smile and titled her head in curiosity, "What are you doing here, Yamamoto-kun? Don't you have practice today?"

At the mention of practice, a memory was triggered; _she still had to visit their practice sometime. _She bit her lip; to be honest, she really didn't think baseball would suite her, and it would really mess with her schedule and what not. Despite the fact that her master had told her to take any chance in sports, she didn't think the older woman would like it if she came to every practice tired and worn out from the other practice. (She could distantly hear the blonde yelling into her ear, "Well, that's why you need to get used to it! It's called building stamina for a _reason_, Sakura!")

"I finished practice about an hour ago," he explained, running a hand through his spiky short hair before gesturing to the plastic bags in his hand that were filled with objects that were unrecognizable, "I'm just running a few errands for my old man. Where are you headed off to?"

"I'm going to the Cake and Bread pastry shop to buy their new cake! I heard it's really good, and I wanted to try it," she sighed to herself, imagining the cake in one hand and a fork in another; that shop had to be the best one in Namimori, with new creations made every month. Each and every cake they made became a hit, making the it pretty popular—hopefully there wouldn't be much people there right now. She turned her gaze up at the smiling boy and resisted the urge to blush; _maybe...he'd want to come with her for some? _"Would you, uhm, like to accompany me?"

"The pastry shop?" His eye brows rose for a few seconds, but her heart dropped and she suspected the worse: _rejection. _But what would she be rejected for? It wasn't like they were going on a date, of course not! Just a friendly outing. A friendly outing with a popular, handsome, talented boy that was super nice, and that should he reject her it wouldn't hurt. She inwardly groaned; _oh, who was she kidding? _Friendly or not, rejection hurt—even if she was inexperienced in those types of things, she knew rejection pained the heart and got people disappointed. She bit her lip in dejection; _he was going to say no._

"Sure! There's one more errand I have to run, and the shop I need to go to is in that direction," he laughed, placing his free hand on her shoulder and leading her in the direction of the bakery—which, also, made her jaw drop in awe at the fact that he said _yes_. He had said yes to her—not reject her like any other boy would do (she had pink hair; that definitely screamed out 'weirdo'); if it were any other boy, they'd probably be freaking out. From what she saw on her soap operas, boys usually agreed to go out with girls if they really, really liked them (which she seriously _doubted_) or if they had some ulterior motives.

But from the happy smile that laced his features and the genuine mirth filling his amber eyes, he truly did want to go with her—_as a friend, _of course. Slowly but surely, a small smile made it's way to her face as she walked closer to him, letting him guide her through the crowd in comfortable silence. She concluded to herself that her first friendly outing was a success, and also concluded that Yamamoto had to be the nicest guy she had ever met.

Once they were at the bakery (_which was nearly empty, _she noted to herself in relief), he opened the door for her (_**what a gentleman, kyaa!**_); in the meantime, she practically skipped over to the cakes that were on display but paused for a moment when she spotted something that was a bit out of place. Titling her head to the side, she watched in curiosity as something—or was it a _someone? _She really couldn't tell—tip-toed to see the cakes on display through the small window, it's afro-shaped head (_are those horns?_) craning to the side to get a better look; she could distantly hear it muttering to itself quietly.

"Lambo-san doesn't have any money to buy cake..." It—_he?_—said sadly, small shoulders sagging as it turned around; it was only then she discovered that it actually was a person...who had a weird sense of style. She eyed the kid's strange outfit: his hair was worn in a puffy afro with horns sticking out from either side of his head, and his small form sported something akin to footsie pajamas with cow spots and a cow tail—but the thing she noted first about him though, was his scrunched up face. His light-green eyes were wide and puffy and watery, lips jutted out in a small pout that only spoiled children and old flirty women would wear, cheeks puffy and button nose scrunched up—

_Was he...about to cry?_

Her eyes softened considerably—_the kid was about to cry_. She bit the insides of her cheek to stop herself from running over there and cuddling that poor boy; she had a soft spot for kids, she knew that, and when she saw his big teary eyes, she just couldn't stand it. She absolutely _hated _it when kids cried—not only did it make her heart wretch at the sight of their tears, but it painfully reminded her of what she used to look like (mental images of a crying pink-haired girl sitting alone on the swings while the other kids played without her burned into the insides of her head—_don't think about it_).

As she walked towards him with Yamamoto following closely behind (she heard him saying he had never been to this shop before, but she was too focused on the little kid to give an exact reply, only choosing to nod), his sniffles got louder, followed by a barely audible, "Hold...it...in...!" Crouching down to his height (which was pretty short—he barely came up to her knee), she gave him a gentle smile and looked at him with soft, caring eyes, "Hey little guy, why're you crying?" At her voice, he seemed to rub at his face furiously before puffing his chest out and laughing out smugly, tears still running down his face despite that fact that he had wiped them away earlier.

"What are you talking about, flamingo head?" Her eye twitched at the nickname (_that might have been even _worse _than being called _pinky) while he continued on, his large eyes looking more watery than before, "I, Lambo-san, am not crying! I just have something in my eyes! Lambo-san _doesn't _cry in front of strangers with _pink-hair_!"

He proceeded to laugh even more, placing his hands on his hips arrogantly. Pursing her lips in irritation, she was about to get up and walk away (and possibly bonk him over the head for being rude to someone that was only trying to help him; _**stupid kid, YOU **_**WERE **_**CRYING, YOU IDIOT!**_) when his laughs turned into sobbing—her irritation died down as soon as she saw his bawling face and once again, her eyes softened.

"Eh? Who's this?" She nearly jumped at the sound of Yamamoto's voice; _crud, I forgot he was here! _She looked over her shoulder and saw him bending down, resting his palms on his knees while staring at her with curious amber eyes that were patiently waiting for an answer. Shaking her head, she sent him a distressed look, "I don't know, I just saw him looking at the cake before he started crying..."

She turned back to the still-crying boy and gazed at him with concern, "What's wrong?"

"I-I can't buy any cake," he sobbed, pointing a small hand towards the cakes on display while he wiped away a few tears with the back of his free hand, "I haven't eaten since I got off the plane!" She bit her lip; _poor kid..._Maybe she could buy him some to make him feel better? Hopefully that would cheer him up, and then she could ask him what he was doing here. Her stomach settled uneasily at the thought of a small boy like him being alone in side a big place; _who would leave their child unattended and hungry in the middle of Namimori? Even worse, _why _was he all alone in the first place?_

"Lambo-chan," she began (she did not relax one bit at her previous thoughts; that, and she also didn't really know his name so she used the name he referred to himself as), clasping her hands together while giving him another smile—this time, she made sure her smile was the kind of smile a mother would give their children, "If I buy you some cake, will you feel better? I don't like it when people cry." He seemed to respond quickly to that, for his sniffles and tears had stopped altogether and was reduced to a mere trembling lower lip, which was still jutted out into a pout; he nodded, lifting up his head to meet her gentle emerald eyes.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Lambo-chan; I'm Sakura Haruno and the boy behind me is Takeshi Yamamoto," she beamed, "Can you tell me why you're all alone here? Where are your parents?" _**So that I can knock some sense into them, SHANNARO! **_She inwardly snarled; what awful parents, leaving their child alone and unsupervised! Why, when she saw them, she'd make sure they'd learn to take care of their child properly...She concentrated on the kid's—Lambo, she corrected herself—sniffling as he replied, "I...got lost. My parents are back at home and I came here by myself." Her brow furrowed; he looked barely 5 years old...

"So you live in Namimori, then?" Yamamoto asked, and continued when the boy nodded vigorously (for some odd reason, something mischievous glinted in the younger boy's eyes, but she brushed it off), "Maybe we can take you back to your house after we get your cake! If you give us directions to your house, we'll be glad to take you home. By the way, I like your costume even if its a bit too late for Halloween—it's cute, ahaha!" Her lips pursed; _he was joking, right? _But by the look of his smile (and not to mention his fits of _genuine _laughter), he _wasn't. _

"Why don't you go on and pick out the cake you want?" The cow-dressed boy nodded with a big smile on his face and ran off, tip-toeing once more to choose the slice of cake that looked good (she dully noted that his butt was practically waving in the air with excitement). Sakura's smile dropped; _what about Yamamoto? _Didn't he still have an errand to run? She didn't want him to be late for anything, really, and she didn't want to waste his time. Turning towards the tall boy—who observed Lambo with a small smile—she sent him an apologetic look, rubbing her forearm awkwardly with her free hand, "You don't have to stay, you know, since you still have errands to do. I can take him home."

His gaze trailed over to her and he let out a small laugh, waving his free hand dismissively, "No, no, it's perfectly fine. My old man doesn't expect me to be home anytime soon, so I practically have the whole day to finish them. And besides," her eye brows shot up when his lips upturned into his usual cheerful smile, lifting his hand to pat her shoulder softly, "You wanted to try their new cake, right? I'll treat you!"

At that statement, her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, her mind racing and trying to register what he had just said; _he was going to treat her? _For a few moments, she really did debate on whether or not he had some ulterior motive—but, of course, that would simply be too out of character and a scheming manipulative Yamamoto seemed too unreal, therefore that theory was obsolete. (And for some reason, his smiles were _never _fake.)

And so, she resigned, looking up at him with the best genuine smile she could offer, "That would be great, Yamamoto-kun. Thank you!"

Lambo had chosen that moment to scamper towards them, tugging on the pinkette's plastic bags hastily, "Lambo-san wants the cream puffs! Two of them!" She looked down and gave him a small smile while gesturing towards Yamamoto, who followed her to the waiting cashier. With a smile on her face, she gazed at the cashier, who seemed oddly familiar for some reason (and she certainly _did not _miss the small smirk the older woman had given her) when she had remembered _her mother worked here. _And that the other cashiers were _super _close to her mom, sometimes coming over to the house to chat up a storm about the latest gossip.

_**CRAP!**_

"What would you like?" The dark-haired cashier asked, walking behind the counter that contained the pastries—the smirk did not faulter, and she died a little inside when the older woman began to constantly switch her gaze between her and the boy behind her. Being spotted with a boy was definitely _not _one of the quirks of being the only daughter of a violent and over-protective cashier, who was told anything and everything by her friends at work. It just so happens that _this _particular cashier was the top gossiper amongst her mother's circle of friends and _that was just horrible._

"A slice of Mont Blanc and two strawberry cream puffs, please," she said, her voice strained along with her smile; though, she was practically screaming inwardly, her eyes wide with panic—_don't tell my mom! ANYTHING BUT THAT, PLEASE. _She knew perfectly well that the dark-haired woman (_what was her name again?_) wasn't a mind reader, but hopefully she'd understand her situation; she was just a normal (she mentally scoffed; if walking on walls and being an ally to a mafia boss was classified as normal) girl, for crying out loud! Hadn't everyone experience over-protective parents? For certain measure, she whispered so that Yamamoto wouldn't hear her, "Please don't tell her..."

The older woman winked, giggling, before nodding and bending down to grab the pastries; _this woman was a life saver. _She bit back a sigh of relief and looked over her shoulder to give the tall boy a weak smile, "I really appreciate you doing this, Yamamoto-kun." He nodded, smile never-ending, and made his way to the cashier with his wallet out to pay. Instead of telling him how much money he was supposed to pay, Sakura watched in surprise as the woman simply handed him two small take-out boxes, waving her perfectly-manicured hand, "It's on the house!"

His eye brows shot up, "Really? I don't know why you're giving it for free, but thanks!" With that being said, he handed the pinkette the box with her cake in it and an excited Lambo his box containing his two cream puffs; she secretly sent a grateful smile towards the cashier, who waved at them as they walked out the door. _Why can't people these days be more like her? _That woman was a hero; keeping secrets, not telling them—well, _her _secret at least (this shouldn't even be a secret! _Just what the heck was so wrong about hanging out with a friend who happens to be a guy?_), and to be honest, she really didn't care about other's secrets _unless _it involved her.

"So, Lambo, where do you live?" At the sound of Yamamoto's voice, she looked down at the younger boy with curious emerald eyes; now that he mentioned it, the kid never really told them where he lived—for all they knew, he could've lived half-way across the city and they _had _to walk (or drive, but none of them had a license yet; maybe by bus or train, but...[_**whatever happened to a day all to myself?**_]) all the way there just to make sure he was okay and home safe. The afro-haired boy looked up at them for a few moments before his eyes widened in realization, using the hand that wasn't carrying his sweets to..._dig into his afro? _Her eyes narrowed when he pulled out a folded piece of paper out of his hair; _uh, okay...that was weird._

His green eyes scanned the paper, squinting to search something before looking back up at them with a big grin, "Lambo-san lives here!" He pointed to some words that were near the bottom of the page—the font was too small to actually see it clearly, so she leaned in, squinting her eyes for a better look. Her eyes widened; _that's only a few blocks from where she lived. _Her eyes narrowed once more, but this time, she felt a bit suspicious. Not once had she seen him around, this being the first time she had actually saw him; there was a chance that he could have moved there recently, but the gossip would have reacher her mom by now—and she'd certainly know if there was a pajama-wearing kid running around the block.

"Oh? That's pretty close by—c' mon, we'll drop you off home safe and sound," the baseball player beamed, walking in the direction of the address; Lambo, for some odd reason, climbed up the tall boy's back and sat comfortably on his shoulder like a parrot would—this made her stifle a giggle since it looked a bit weird, with the boy having a giant afro and a cow tail and all. She craned her neck to see Yamamoto's reaction, but she wasn't surprised to see that his face was still relaxed into its usual smile, his amber eyes shining with glee; _he was such an easy-going guy!_

Her stomach growled unexpectedly, making the other two look at her with eye brows raised (well, one of the two—Lambo had probably remembered how hungry he was, too, and began to ravage his box for a cream puff and stuff his face hurriedly), and causing her to look at the ground sheepishly, "I think I'll eat my cake now, too..."

Taking out the small fork that came with the slice, she opened the box carefully as to not cause the contents to shift, placing her nose near the opening to take a big whiff; _oh, that smelled so heavenly! _She'd never thought she'd be so into such a cake—the sweet smell of the pureed chestnuts (she never was a big fan of them to begin with, but after her first try of Mont Blanc, the rest was history), the smell of the freshly-whipped cream, the warm layer of cake to finish it...she couldn't wait any longer—she softly cut off a small piece and greedily took a bite, savoring the sweet and creamy taste and—

_Yamamoto was still here! _Slowly gulping down her cake, she peered up at the said boy with unsure eyes; she felt bad, since he didn't get anything—he was planning on treating her (even if in the end he didn't really had to pay), and he must've been hungry also (that was what she hated the most about eating in front of others). Guiltily looking down at her barely-eaten cake, she mentally berated herself for being so selfish; _he had been running around all day and he had nothing to eat, while she was munching away on an expensive cake after walking around for only an hour. _And so, as she bit her lip, she cleared her throat awkwardly, catching his attention, "Would you like to try some?"

He blinked a few times before breaking out in a grin, "It looks really good, so sure!" Her lips eased into a content smile and she used her fork to take a piece, lifting up to his face (she nearly had to tip-toe) for him to eat. She may have sounded like a total dork, but she loved introducing her favorite foods to other people—it was great seeing people with the same tastes in food (especially sharing favorites in anmitsu and dumplings). Once he had taken his bite, she watched for his reaction in excitement, her smile growing bigger once his lips returned to a smile, "Well? Is it good?"

He nodded, wiping off a few crumbs that stuck to his face, "I never really liked chestnuts, but this is really good!"

"I know—I had the same reaction," she giggled, cutting off a small piece for herself. The rest of the trip to Lambo's house was made in silence no different from the trip they had made to the pastry shop, with the pinkette taking turns feeding herself and Yamamoto—Lambo had decided to sing to himself softly as he finished his last cream puff, but she was too busy viewing her surroundings (well, if she couldn't have a day all to herself, she might as well think about things—and it seemed Yamamoto didn't mind the silence, anyways) to find out the lyrics.

Suddenly, the tall boy beside her came to a halt, stopping in front of an average-looking house, "Well, here it is." Lambo, who's face was now scrunched up in—_what was that? _She raised an eye brow; he looked a bit _determined_ about something...but _what? _They had only dropped him off home. Before her thoughts could continue, he jumped off of his shoulder and onto the wall, running along the edge until he was at the tree. Her suspicion from earlier began to resurface as she watched the boy jump onto one of the tree's branches, slowly making his way up the tree until he was perched on the highest branch that was in front of one of the house's windows.

Yamamoto watched from besides her with his eye brows raised, and after what had happened, he let out an amused guffaw, "Wow, he's a good tree climber for his age! I hope he doesn't fall or break anything—that _is _pretty high." For a moment, she secretly sent him a weird look; she was beginning to doubt his sanity. He hadn't been suspicious about the 'fireworks' from the day before, and he had been pretty much laid back the whole time they were at the pastry shop (not to mention he was pretty chill about catching her that time when Tsuna had literally blown her away; he was pretty chill about that, too, even cracking a joke!).

Brushing off her suspicions of his sanity, her eyes widened when she saw the cow-dressed boy pull out multiple objects from his afro (_how is that even possible?_) that suspiciously looked like guns, ammo, axes, _a mace_, and...something that looked like it could cause multiple explosions—she didn't know what it was called, she didn't care, but what she really wanted to know was _why the hell was a 5-year-old carrying such dangerous weapons! _He staggered for a moment (probably because of all the weight from the guns and what not) before a smirk grew on his face, "Today you die, Reborn!"

She blinked. _Did he just say...Reborn?_

He couldn't possibly be talking about Reborn, as in the hitman Reborn—but something deep inside her gut told her it was true, and that Lambo wasn't what he seemed to be. Her eyes narrowed, her hands ghosting over the gloves that were hidden away in her back pocket; sure, he was a kid that possibly couldn't do anything besides cry and throw a few bullets (speaking of bullets, she wondered if the cow-dress boy was a _hitman..._but that was ridiculous, really—a small kid like him, running around with the agenda to kill? That was certainly hilarious [but a part of her knew it was possible—after what she had seen in the past few days, anything was possible]!) but if he was going to cause some trouble to her allies, then she wouldn't have any of that.

A loud crack was heard, and Lambo was airborne due to the branch he was standing on breaking. Unfortunately, this had sent her jumping over the wall in a hurry and towards the falling boy to break his fall—only to have her whole front skid on the grass (_**this was my **_**favorite **_**shirt, dammit!**_) and _not _catch him.

She inwardly berated herself for not being fast enough; _he could have _died! What use would a medic be if she couldn't even save _one little kid? _Her wide and worried eyes traveled over to the small boy and searched for any injuries whatsoever—luckily, the grass was pretty soft and he was only covered in a few scratches that didn't look too serious, but her analyzing was disrupted when his eyes began to water, snot running down his nose, "Hold it in..."

Her head flopped down onto the soft earth beneath her—she didn't care if her hair was messed up at the moment, or if she looked like an idiot to others, she was just so confused and relieved at the moment; confused, because she wondered how the hell her day had ended up like this, and relieved because Lambo wasn't hurt. Her ears picked up the sounds of grass crunching, then feeling something loom over her. Lifting her head, she peered up at someone's tall silhouette with dazed emerald eyes, the sun casting a shadow of their face, until they offered a hand to help her up from her slump on the floor. Yamamoto's cheerful voice broke through the air, "You look like you're having a lot of fun, hahaha!"

"Yeah," she grumbled half-heartedly, dusting off her clothes of stray blades of grass after he had helped her up. She was about to thank him when she was interrupted by a familiar squeaky voice from above her, "Sakura-chan? Yamamoto?" _This turned out to be one _weird _morning. Geeze._

"Oh, Tsuna!" The said boy was leaning over the sill of the window above them, his face written with surprise and something akin to horror as he stared down at them, jaw dropped. While the boy next to her waved at him up above with his usual smile, she could only manage a weak wave, the other hand running through her tangled, messy, and grass-decorated pink hair. She inwardly sighed, distantly hearing the brunette inviting them inside to explain the whole Lambo ordeal (the said boy was nowhere to be found, and the only indication that he was actually there was the broken branch that was left aside); _so much for a normal day._

Tsuna's mom—Nana Sawada—was a cheerful middle-aged woman who was extremely nice and warm, immediately welcoming them inside while gushing out how wonderful it was for her son's friends to come over (_why couldn't her mom be like _that?). As the pinkette and Yamamoto made their way up the stairs, she couldn't help but feel that Lambo had something to do with the mafia, possibly hired to kill Reborn—or, something like that. But Lambo didn't seem so harmless—he seemed like any other kid in the world: having a sweet tooth, dressing up like animals, running around with water guns and footballs (but in Lambo's case, an M1911 and grenades); of course, she could be wrong. Reborn was a baby with style and she had thought of him as harmless before he told her he knew about Tsunade.

When she opened the door, she was met with a messy room that looked as if it had been burnt, shelves misplaced, light blue wallpaper smudged with soot, and in the middle of it all she spotted a calm-looking Reborn and an embarrassed Tsuna, who was scratching the back of his head nervously while switching his gaze between her and the boy behind her. She raised and eye brow; _why did he look so panicked? _But then it hit her—_Yamamoto had no clue about the mafia, and that he only thought of it as one big game. _She resisted the urge to groan—just how was Reborn and Tsuna going to explain this?

"Um, please, have a seat," Tsuna said, patting the empty spaces besides him weakly—she could clearly see his brown eyes darting towards Reborn in an attempt to call for help, but she knew that the baby probably wouldn't do anything. "What are you two doing here?"

"Lambo said he lived here," Yamamoto said after placing his bags on the ground, his eyebrows darting up, "We found him at the pastry shop crying—he said he was lost, so we decided to drop him off home." He then began to laugh, "Tsuna, you didn't tell us you had a little brother!"

Her lips pursed, taking her seat beside Tsuna with her bag of clothes sitting comfortably on her criss-cossed legs; _was he really serious? _But, after what he had been saying in the past 3 hours, he probably was. He was so naive! How was that even possible? _Well, there was always the chance he could be mentally insane. _Yamamoto—cheerful and happy-go-lucky Yamamoto—being _insane? _She covered her snort with a small cough; there was a _tiny_ chance of that being possible, with his never-ending supply of smiles and what not.

The shorter boy blinked before putting his hands up in defense, "I-I don't have a younger brother! I'm an only child!" The dark-haired baseball player was about to reply when the door to Tsuna's room slammed open to reveal Lambo, who's fist was clenched and his green eyes blazing in determination and resolve. Her eyes widened, snapping her gaze to Reborn; _wasn't going to do anything? _She watched in disbelief as he simply turned a page in one of Tsuna's text books, not paying attention to the possible hitman at the door; _why the heck was he ignoring him? _

The cow-dressed boy smirked, "Hey Reborn! I guess you don't remember me, right? Well it's me, Lambo, your eternal rival!"

As dangerous as the situation seemed, she couldn't help but stifle a laugh when she realized Reborn was still ignoring him, flipping pages in the text book before turning to a wide-eyed Tsuna, "Tsuna, make sure you learn and memorize this formula—you'll see it a lot on your homework, so already having it in your head will help you." If she didn't know any better, she'd think Reborn was just ignoring Lambo because he was too busy tutoring Tsuna to actually care. She glanced back at the 5-year-old, who's smirk disappeared because of his fallen jaw. Suddenly, the cow-dressed boy practically jumped towards the baby, one fist pulled back to prepare for a punch.

"Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you or else I'll give you a good punch to the face—" He wasn't able to finish—instead, his face had hit the smoot surface of Reborn's hand, sending him flying into the wall behind him with a large crack; she winced when she noticed the impact had caused a Lambo-shaped imprint in the plaster of Tsuna's wall.

_That must've hurt..._Although her medic instincts were telling her to go over there and check for any injuries, her rational instincts told her to stay put due to the fact the small boy could be an enemy that was in the mafia. She knew very well that Lambo was just a kid, but she needed to be wary; especially since Tsuna was still training to become the boss.

Lambo slid down the wall to cradle his knee, tears running down his face as he exclaimed with a smile on his face, "That was a cheap trick, Reborn, tripping me! Lambo of the Bovino Family—a lover of grapes and candy and everything sweet—was tripped by my long-time rival Reborn, ahahahahaha!" As he continued to laugh—the tears and snot still ran down his eyes and nose—she sweatdropped; _the Bovino Family? _That must've been another family in the mafia world. But to be honest, how did someone like _him _become a hitman in the first place? He certainly wasn't a Reborn, who was skilled in everything, and he probably wasn't a boss like Tsuna; how in the world did they let someone like that into their family? Judging from Tsuna's face, he was probably thinking something along the lines of that, too.

Reborn continued to ignore Lambo, telling the brown-haired boy to use the previous formula to solve the equations on the next page. Lambo did not tolerate that—he reached into his afro (she still had NO idea of how he could stuff so many things in his hair) and pulled out something pink and—_**that was a freaking GRENADE! **_

Emerald eyes widening and shoulders tensing, she prepared to grab it and throw it outside so no one would get hurt (she secretly stole a curious glance at Yamamoto, who didn't seem to be fazed about the grenade; instead, his smile was back, watching the scene unfold before him) when the pink bomb was thrown. She reached across—but Reborn, instead, took action and smacked it back towards the 5-year-old.

To her, it didn't seem to be hit that hard, but when she saw the grenade hit Lambo on the cheek, sending him _flying _back out the window and into the tree, she really wondered who—or more specifically _what_—Reborn was. (She also wanted to know how he could stay so calm in any situation.)

KA-BOOM!

Before Yamamoto could question anything about the sudden disappearance of Lambo and the explosion outside of the window, she stood up with her bags in her arms and walked over to where he sat, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket, "Y-Yamamoto-kun, shouldn't we leave? I mean, Tsuna still has to study and you still have an errand to run...!" _Please say yes, please say yes! _She bit her lip; she needed to keep things on the down-low, and not let Yamamoto get involved—which was probably impossible since he _willingly _wanted to be in on the 'fun,' but she could at least try.

He thought for a few moments before nodding, his face relaxing into a look of understanding, "Oh, yeah!" And with that, he stood up, stretching a bit before grabbing his bag, taking his place next to the pinkette, "I guess we'll see you tomorrow, Tsuna!" The two exited (not before giving the said boy, who sent them a twitching and strained smile, a weak wave; Yamamoto gave him his usual cheery grin and a thumbs up), and as they walked down the stairs of Tsuna's house, Sakura inwardly groaned, resisting the urge to pull her pink hair off of her scalp and cry in a corner; _yeah, so much for a normal, mafia-and-trouble-free day..._

* * *

><p>Her morning would've been perfectly fine—oh, yes, it would've been perfectly fine. Besides a few things, of course.<p>

First, her mom had decided to wake her up late—_again, _and so, in hopes that she wouldn't have to face the _President _(cue the cold shivers that ran up and down her spine) she rushed to get to school, which ultimately led her to take the shortcut. Unfortunately, she had the honors of bumping into her 'morning run buddy,' Ryohei Sasagawa, who decided to run along with her to school—_again. _Despite the run being totally tiring (she was still tired from the past few days' events), she made it to school on time, which earned her a congratulatory pat on the back from Ryohei. Apparently, mid-way through the run, he had announced another race and it ended in a tie—_again. _(_**Of course without chakra, shannaro!**_)

Dragging her tired and aching legs to class, she inwardly groaned; _holy cow, the boy had some energy! _Ryohei Sasagawa (that still sounded a tad bit familiar, but she just couldn't put her finger on where she heard that name before) was a mystery to her: where he mustered up all that energy to run, go to school, box, and do the same thing over and over again everyday, she didn't know—all she knew was that he 'lived to the extreme' and that he was passionate about boxing. _For some off reason, that scared her a bit_—the thought of seeing such an 'extreme' guy in the boxing rink was a bit..._weird_. (She'd been using that word a lot.)

"Sakura-san!"

Stopping, her brow furrowed in confusion—_who called her that? _Besides everyone in her grade, of course, but they didn't really talk to her. Tsuna had taken to calling her 'Sakura-chan,' Yamamoto addressed her as 'Sakura,' Gokudera insulted her by calling her 'Pinky' but he'd rarely call her 'Sakura,' and even Ryohei would call her 'Haruno;' no one she usually talked with addressed her so formally. And so, curious as to who would be calling her, she turned around and was met with the jogging form of Kyoko Sasagawa (_now, where had she heard that before? _It sounded so familiar!), who's pretty face was relaxed into a small and welcoming smile. _Now what would Kyoko want with her?_

Smiling, the pinkette gave her a small wave to the orange-haired girl, who stopped when she was beside her, "Good morning, Kyoko-san!"

"Do you mind if I walk with you?" Kyoko asked, her eyes gentle and warm (she noticed that her eyes were only a few shades darker that her hair and looked very nice). Sakura—who wasn't used to having such company in the morning—nodded reluctantly, but her lips twitched into a hesitant smile as the other girl giggled. On their way to class, they had discovered that they had a similar liking to the Cake and Bread pastry shop, with Kyoko being extremely ecstatic at the fact that the pinkette's mother worked there as a cashier. It had only been about 15 minutes into walking to class when they had come to terms of addressing one another with '-chan.'

As the orange-haired girl talked about the upcoming cake at the shop (which was, Sakura predicted, going to be a great hit in Namimori), the pinkette couldn't help but ponder on the other girl. Kyoko Sasagawa was the school's idol, with a cheerful and gentle attitude and great looks—but Sakura couldn't help but assume she was somewhat of an airhead, since she had thought Tsuna's confession was a complete joke. But besides that, Kyoko seemed like a really great girl with a kind heart, who was supporting and would be a great friend. She inwardly smiled to herself; _no wonder Tsuna liked her so much. _

But to be completely honest, she was a bit jealous of the taller girl—Sakura had never been popular, nor had she been considered 'pretty' or 'cute,' nor was she ever crushed on by others (besides that boy in her elementary school years; after him, no one else confessed their 'undying love' for her). She always wondered what it'd feel like if she weren't so...abnormal; if she had normal looks (like having her mother's blonde hair instead of her unusual pink hair, or hazel eyes instead of her emerald green eyes) then maybe she wouldn't be known as 'that one girl with the pink hair,' or—

"S-S-S-Sakura-chan!"

She was brought back down to earth when something tearfully latched onto the front of her uniform, small hands tightly gripping onto her while a familiar _afro _with _cow horns _blocked her line of sight. Confused and concerned, she gently pushed Lambo's hair down to try and pry him off of her—it felt so gross feeling _tears _and _snot _seeping into her clothes, not to mention the snot would probably stay and that was utterly disgusting. In front of her stood a laughing Yamamoto, a gaping Tsuna, a purse-lipped Gokudera, and—surprisingly—a confused-looking Hana, who were all crowded around the door to the class room, their gazes concentrated on her and the crying boy.

"L-Lambo-chan!" She bit her lip; _what was he doing here? _The last time she had seen him, he was supposedly blown into bits and pieces because of the grenade...and just how the heck was he able to remain unscathed after that? Shaking off mental images of a bloody and injured Lambo regenerating his limbs, she turned her puzzled emerald orbs towards the three boys—more specifically Tsuna, since he looked like the one who knew why Lambo was even at school in the first place, "What's he doing here?"

She dully noted that Kyoko, who was watching from beside her the whole time, seemed unperturbed at the fact that the little boy was crying and instead chose to coo over him as if he were the cutest thing she had ever saw, "He's dressed up as a cute cow! What's your name, little guy?" She then looked towards Tsuna with her small smile and her twinkling orbs (Sakura _swore _she heard some cutesy romantic music playing and the air suddenly sparkling; _**cutesty moe!**_), "Ne, Tsuna-kun, is this your younger brother?"

"Younger brother or not, it's not really safe to bring him to school," Hana stated, placing a hand on her hip as she eyed the brunette sharply. The pinkette bit her lip; _crap, Hana was right. _Usually, people weren't really supposed to be on school grounds if they weren't a student or part of the school's faculty—and if they were caught lurking around with a student, the student would have to face the wrath of _Kyoya Hibari. _

Her stomach curled in distaste, followed by the tremors that ran up and down her spine before she shakily—yet weakly—tried to pry Lambo off of her shirt once more, her eyes wide in fear and her throat suddenly going dry (oh god oh god, if she was caught she was freaking _dead_), "Lambo-chan, why don't you go home? I'm sure your, erm, _mother _is worried about you not being home!"

_But of course, if you speak of the devil then the devil shall appear._

Suddenly, all conversations that were being held in the crowded hall seemed to die down into mere whispers, and Sakura knew something was wrong when the temperature in the air had gotten really cold, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck raise. Her breath hitched, and the only thing that was running through her mind at everyone's moment of fear was, _oh god, why me? _The three boys in front of her were looking over her shoulder at something—she knew full well it was a _someone_—with cautious eyes while she felt a pale concerned hand rested itself on her shaking shoulders. Kyoko whispered to her worriedly, "Sakura-chan, the President..."

Wrapping her arms protectively around the now-sniffling boy, she slowly turned around, only to have her fears confirmed—the prefect was standing at the end of the hall with his narrowed gaze directed solely at her, ignoring everyone else as he made no move to advance towards her. With each and every second, her heart began to beat wildly against her rib cage, with her rational instincts yelling at her to _get the hell out of there. _But her feet were frozen, glued to the very spot of where she stood; if she weren't so scared and so close to _soiling _herself at the moment, she would've laughed and commented at how she'd always get that reaction whenever she saw him.

_**RUN! **_She kept telling her feet to run as far away as she could from _him_, but something deep in her gut told her that even if she ran (with _chakra_) he'd still catch up—her heart stopped beating once his gaze hardened, the look in his eyes telling her that _he was going to rip her throat out, _like a lion ending the life of its prey with the single snap of its jaws. She was cornered—there was nothing she could do. _She was going to die, right there. _"H-Hibari-san..."

"H-He should be home...! I-I'm sorry, I'll bring him back home as soon as possible!" _Tsuna?_

The next moment, she found herself being dragged off and away from the dark-haired prefect, her line of vision seeing a head of spiky brown hair and an arm that gripped tightly to her clammy and cold hand, pulling her away from danger and into safe territory. Letting out a breath she had unknowingly holding, the blood began to flow back to face, a bead of cold sweat running down her temple; _oh god, that was so close. _She did her best to brush off the sense of being watched—she could clearly imagine his onyx eyes staring at her back with so much intensity even when they descended down the stairs and she was just so _scared_—

_Oh god, she was so close to dying and_—and Tsuna had once again saved her butt from her potential death. Unconsciously, she squeezed onto his hand for re-assurance, biting her lip; that had caused him to look over his shoulder in curiosity, and she had taken the time to give him a weak smile in her gratitude since she was still unable to find her voice from the previous incident. For the next minutes they ran non-stop, Lambo still crying and clutching onto Sakura's uniform, but she didn't mind—she didn't know where Tsuna was taking her, she didn't care if Gokudera was following them; she was just happy to be away from the prefect, and out of harm's way.

After what seemed like half-an-hour running away, Sakura was trying to catch her breath, placing Lambo—who had finally let go—on the ground gently before adjusting her bag's strap onto her shoulder. Tsuna had taken them to a deserted and open-spaced place inside the school, and was now questioning the small boy of why he was there. Crouching down besides the brunette, she watched intently as Lambo confessed he was lost and that he had been looking for Reborn, tears falling from his big green eyes before he sniffled sadly. She inwardly pursed her lips; _so he was still looking for Reborn, even if Reborn made it clear that he didn't really care if he was a rival?_

"Um, Sakura-chan," the boy besides her asked, looking at her with uncertainty and apprehension filling his brown eyes, "How do you know about the mafia?"

_So, he hadn't forgotten? _Sighing, she bit the insides of her cheek before opening her mouth to reply (_really, there was too much to explain at the moment_), but then the sounds of quick-paced footsteps bounced off of the walls of the building, and her head turned to look over her shoulder, spotting a running Gokudera with his face twisted in irritation and confusion. Deep down, she was a bit relieved for his appearance—she didn't have to explain things now; she could tell him later, because she knew Tsuna would come back looking for answers.

The silver-haired boy skidded to a halt next to her, his emerald eyes staring at the smallest boy with a scowl lacing his features, "This..._thing _seems to know Reborn-san—is there any chance he'd be in the mafia, too?"

She inwardly scoffed; _**well, duh, obviously if he knows that Reborn is a hitman, then he **_**must **_**be in the mafia! **_Why couldn't he put two and two together? Reborn sure didn't look like he'd go on and make friends with kids his 'age,' (even _she _didn't know what his real age was! He could've been some freaky genius-baby with the mind of an adult, or he could've been an adult with the small body of a baby!) since he was too busy tutoring and training Tsuna.

"H-He's," she nearly coughed out, finally getting her voice back—her throat felt dry and hoarse, but she managed to finish her sentence as she stood up, dusting the imaginary dirt off of her skirt as if nothing had ever happened, trying to wrack her memory of the previous events "He said he was part of a family...Bonivo? No, the _Bovino_ Family—he said he was apart of the Bovino Family yesterday."

"Class is about to begin," Reborn's voice had suddenly spoke—a few feet ahead of them, a small square of the ground was lifted up without a problem only to reveal the said baby (_**just why the heck does he pop out of no where?**_), who greeted them with the wave of his small hand. She reeled back, eyes wide in surprise while her lips pursed; through her peripheral vision, Tsuna and Gokudera had similar expression. As if he didn't notice their reactions, the business-suit-clad baby jumped up from the small hole in the ground, tossing the square of earth back on top of it before continuing as if it happened every day (she wouldn't be surprised if it did), "I suggest you hurry on and make it back to class, Tsuna."

Out of nowhere, Lambo began to laugh—_evilly, _she might add—his tears and snot all dried up as he pointed a short finger towards the indifferent baby, "You fell for the bait—I knew my plan would work! Those tears were all just a trap so that you could come out from your hiding place, hahaha!"

She felt her left eye twitch; _so he had wasted her time, almost gotten her killed by the President, was making her late for class at this moment, and got snot on her uniform...__**ALL SO THAT HE COULD LURE REBORN OUT? **_Why that no-good little...she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves (and resist from throttling the kid); _he was just a kid, he was just a kid_—_he doesn't know any better, he's just a kid..._

"Your life ends here!" She nearly blanched at the sight of the rocket launcher (THAT APPEARED OUT OF NO WHERE) that Lambo held in his hands, who nearly stumbled at the sheer weight of it but regained his posture as he bared his teeth, aiming it at Reborn's unmoving form. While Tsuna screamed out at the sight, her emerald eyes switched to the baby, concern and bewilderment shining in her eyes; _wasn't he going to do anything to avoid getting hit? _With on shot of that rocket, everything in the vicinity would be blown to bits—_including _her, Tsuna, Gokudera, and everyone else in the school. _It wouldn't be too smart to let him do that._

Gokudera turned to Reborn, his brow furrowed, "H-Hey, this guy...is he—" _**IF THE ROCKET LAUNCHER AND THE AGENDA TO KILL REBORN ISN'T A SIGN, THEN **_**YES **_**HE'S A HITMAN! **_

"Yes," Reborn replied calmly, letting his green lizard rest on the back of his hand as he stared at all four of them with his big, doe eyes; if he thought he wasn't going to die as soon as Lambo pulled the trigger, then he had another thing coming, because if no one was going to stop the cow-dressed boy they were all doomed. "He's a hitman that's apart of the Bovino Family back in Italy."

The silver-haired boy seemed to have gotten the message (_finally!_) and nodded, stormy green eyes set in stone as he grabbed the frozen Tsuna and jumped a good distance from the youngest boy; she followed shortly, stopping when she was standing besides Gokudera with her hands clenched at her sides and her brow creased with worry; _things were not going so well._

If Gokudera were to try and blow the kid up (which probably had the greatest chance of happening), then he'd get severely injured—or even worse, he could die (which probably had the least chance of happening after witnessing the events the previous day—how Lambo had survived getting blown up by that grenade, she'll _never _know). Hands flying to his back pockets, she watched as he brought out a handful of dynamite and prepared to throw them, "Boss, don't worry! I'll protect you!"

She glanced at the brunette, his face twisting in horror, "H-Hold on a minute—"

But it was too late—Gokudera had already thrown the lit bombs towards the wide-eyed boy, who followed the bombs as if it were birds in the sky before his face slowly morphed into realization.

She bit her lip; _don't die..._even if Lambo had been a real pain in her butt in the last 24 hours (excluding the time where she had first found him; so technically 18 hours or somewhere around there), he didn't deserve to die at such a young age—he was just a kid starting his journey in life. _But this was what happened when you get yourself involved with the mafia. _She bitterly realized that there were no such things as happy endings when dealing with mafia-related situations; there was only death, and the guilt you have to bear through _every single day _because _you killed someone._

_Was that what it felt like to be a shinobi back in Tsunade-shishou's world?_

The last thing she heard before the explosion was Lambo's surprised and terrified scream—_oh god, oh god, please survive_. Hopefully, he'd make it out alive—she remembered that he had supposedly exploded yesterday, and if he could survive that, then he could survive a few dynamite..._right? _She gripped the hem of her shirt, emerald eyes searching nervously for any sign that the little boy was still alive; _please be alive. _Each second that passed without an indication he was still in once piece made her feel nauseous; _a little kid just died and all she was doing was standing around. _

After a few more minutes, the smoke began to clear—her chest erupted in relief as soon as she saw the silhouette of a certain boy's small and twitching form; _he was alive! _(Even if she was happy he made it out in one piece, it was kind of creepy how he was somewhat 'immortal;' surely, after getting blown up so many times, he should've been either six feet under or littered on the floor in bloody, mangled, and charred pieces.)

Her wide emerald eyes watched in amazement as the smallest boy struggled to push himself off of the ground, his rocket launcher lying nearby in broken pieces. As soon as he got up, he started bawling his eyes out, letting out wails that would surely put any newborn baby to shame.

_H-He's crying again! _Biting the insides of her cheek, she looked away awkwardly; she had to suppress the urge to run over to the little boy's side to see if he was hurt—_crying children was always her weak spot_. Next to her, Gokudera muttered to himself on how he was such a cry baby, and was about to add her two-cents in when Lambo—with his tears still running down the side of his face—hurriedly dug into the deep recesses of his physics-defying afro and tossed in front of him a—_was that a purple bazooka? _She immediately tensed, brow furrowing in confusion and caution; _what was he going to do? _Was he going to shoot at them—

He did the exact opposite of what she had been thinking—instead of aiming it at the three, her jaw nearly dislocated when she saw him _jump_ into the bazooka (_**just how the heck can he fit in there?**_) and pull the trigger on himself from the inside with a string.

The whole area was once again enveloped by pink smoke, making her eyes tear up a bit—waving her hand and filtering the air with her hand (which, she might note, did _nothing _at all; she dully wondered if this counted as second-hand smoking); through the layers of smoke, she could vaguely see an unfamiliar silhouette that was definitely _not _Lambo's, walking towards them with slow and lazy strides. _Who was this? _Her hands inched towards her leather gloves for precaution.

"Hm," a voice drawled, cutting through the thick and tense air—her brow furrowed; _what now? _The person continued, the silhouette advancing closer, "So I'm in the past, huh...? Well, it's been a long time since I've seen the Tenth Vongola Boss from the past."

_How does he know Tsuna? And...the _past? Her eyes narrowed at the figure, who was now beginning to become visible as the smoke cleared away. Who she saw was in _no _way familiar to her at all: he stood approximately seven or eight inches taller than her, raven-colored hair that was slightly curled, a half-lidded green eye (with the other being closed), a necklace with bull horns—to complete his look he wore a black coat over an unbuttoned dress shirt that was covered in cow spots and showing off his well-toned chest (_for the sake of not getting a nose bleed, don't look! __**BUT HE'S JUST TOO HOT TO RESIST, SHANNARO!**_), a buckled belt, a pair of beige pants and a pair of brown sandals.

"Who...who are you?" Tsuna questioned from beside her, his voice trembling. Gokudera, who was next to him, muttered quietly, "He...looks a bit familiar..."

The pinkette stared at his face—_not his chest, anything but that_—her cheeks dusting a pale pink as she bit her lip; something felt a bit..._off, _for some reason. But there was something alse that bothered her: _just where did Lambo go, anyway? _He didn't kill himself from that bazooka, did he?

Before she could think any further, the boy—or man?—strode towards her, his green eyes staring at her intensely while his hands were shoved far into his pockets. Out of caution, she stepped back (she could feel Tsuna's worried gaze and the glare that Gokudera directed at the older boy-man) and reached for her gloves. Her emerald eyes narrowed, watching his every move; _just what was he doing? He better not try anything funny or else he'll find a foot shoved up his_—

"It's also been a while since I've seen the young Sakura," the man chuckled softly; she froze. Just how did he know who she was? She had never seen this guy in her entire life—this being the first time she had seen him—and what was all that nonsense about 'young Sakura' and the 'Tenth Generation Boss from the past?' This guy must've been crazy, because there was no other way of how she could be young (well, 14 was a pretty young age, but still!) and there was no way Tsuna was in the past—the last time she checked, they were living in the _present. _Her breath hitched when she saw his hand move towards her neck.

"Oi, stay away from her!" The silver-haired boy threatened, hands once again flying to the back of his pockets to grab more dynamite while Tsuna watched the scene unfold with his eyes clouded with concern and panic. Her hands clenched at her sides.

He was going to kill her—_if you don't move, you'll die! _

He must've been a _really _bad murderer, because in the next few moments he had missed her neck _completely_—his fingers had lightly grazed the side of her neck (making her shiver at the contact of his cold skin on her exposed neck); instead of killing her like she had assumed, he had grabbed a lock of her pink hair in between his fingers and twirled it a bit before his lips twitched up into something akin to a _nostalgic_ smile that unsettled her for some reason.

She inwardly gawked; puzzled beyond compare and a bit flabbergasted at what had just happened, she was about to give the stranger a weak 'back off' when he had interrupted her, his hand now running through her locks, "I've always admired how pretty your hair was ever since I met you ten years ago—I still do."

_...what?_

"I appreciate that time you had bought me those cream puffs. They were delicious," he murmured, removing his hand from her hair to pat the top of her head gently. The only thing she could manage to get out was a small, "Eh?" before blinking a few times while her brain tried its best to register what had happened, his hand pulling away to retreat back into his pockets—with her eye brows shot up to her hairline, she watched in surprise as the tall boy-man turned his head towards the startled Vongola boss and the dynamite expert to give them a small two-fingered salute, "I'm Lambo the Cry Baby—a decade ago, you came to my aid and I want to thank you for that."

_Lambo_—_decade_—_cream puffs_—_**WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? **_Her breath hitched; this couldn't be Lambo! Lambo was supposed to be a short, teary-eyed 5-year-old that had a sweet tooth for candy and pastries; Lambo was supposed to be chasing after Reborn with deadly weapons, he was supposed to be irritating, he was supposed to be a _kid! _This man was too tall, too manly, too old, too laid back, too _handsome _to be Lambo. Tsuna voiced her inner thoughts—his confused voice rang in her ears, "J-Just what are you talking about?"

Reborn, who was watching from the sidelines silently, jumped on top of the brunette's head, hands resting at his sides while his green lizard regained its spot on the rim of his fedora, "This must be the effect of the Ten-Year Bazooka."

Wanting to be as far away from the so-called 'Lambo,' she scooted closer to Tsuna, their arms brushing against each other as she stared at the oldest with wary emerald eyes and hands clenched around the strap of her bag. Her mind raced; _the Ten-Year Bazooka? _Was that some kind of special weapon that was used in the mafia? The baby resumed speaking, "That is the Bovino Family's infamous weapon that has been used for years."

The man's lips twitched up into another smile as he began to go into more depth about the weapon, "You see, the person that is shot with the bazooka is replaced with his future self from ten years later so that the future person—who would be stronger, wiser, faster, and ten-years more experienced—can fight the battle taking place." He then began to scratch the back of his head, closing his eye in a lazy manner, "Unfortunately, the effects only last for 5 minutes—after that, the present and the future selves switch back to their original timelines."

_It wasn't possible. _There was no such thing as time-travel—the person standing in front of them (who was a handsome, suave, sharp-looking man) was, in absolutely no way, Lambo from the _future. _She took a deep breath as Tsuna exclaimed his disbelief; this had to be all a big joke, and they were all just playing along—the man in front of them was probably a hired actor and Lambo was just hiding somewhere in the bushes, probably munching away on some candy. She knew she sounded stupid, denying all of it, but _it _just_ wasn't possible. _But of course, if it was mafia-related, _anything _was possible (from child hitmen to talking babies to invincibility bullets); she could only fear for the worse.

"Reborn, I'm guessing you don't remember me," Adult Lambo said, bemused, as he made his way towards the baby that was still perched on top Tsuna's head. "I recall you ignoring often in the past...eh?" A pink eye brow was raised; _why did he suddenly stop?_

She nearly blanched when she realized the said baby—even if he was in the presence of a more mature Lambo—was still ignoring him; Reborn, instead of listening to the man ramble on, had found more interest in the green scales of his lizard. She watched in horror as the man smirked, his eyes being shadowed as he bowed his head; _what was he thinking? _

Lambo's hands suddenly shot out from his pockets to slap something on to the sides of his head (what the..._was that thunder? __**It was perfectly sunny a few moments ago!**_)—_were those horns? _Wondering what the hell was going on at the moment, she was about to question everything that happened when the horned-man spoke, his voice low, "I guess the only way to show you how much I've changed is to use my last resort—"

"THUNDER SET!" Another blast of thunder and lighting—she wondered if the mafia also specialized in special effects with the background because there was _no _way thunder and lighting could appear out of no where (that would only happen if the weather was screwed up and the sky was raining ramen and sushi—and the weather channel _specifically_ said that it would be sunny and that today would be the perfect day to go and fly a kite or something). Her ears picked up the sounds of crackling and she turned her head back to where Lambo was—_he was covered in electric bolts! _She resisted the urge to rub at her eyes to see if it was just her imagination (but it unfortunately wasn't) and gaped. _Just _what _was he?_

"These horns—they contain enough electricity to kill you with a single touch; a million bolts, to be exact." Like a bull running for that red cape, he then began to charge towards the offender—who, unfortunately for Tsuna—was still perched atop the brown-haired boy's head. She inwardly screamed, her eyes going wide; _was Reborn really going to let Tsuna get hurt? _Reborn needed to do something quick or else _Tsuna was going to die! _After seeing his trembling and startled form, he was probably screaming on the inside; _who wouldn't? _"This is where you die, Reborn! Electric Cornada!"

"Boss!" Gokudera shouted, his shoulders tensing—the said boy watched on, his face twisted into a look of fear and horror as the man ran running at him with his electrically-charged horns pointed at him. Her wide emerald eyes gazed at Reborn with panic; _do something! TSUNA WAS GOING TO DIE! _

She was practically yelling at him from her mind to save him—and that was when the green lizard which was peacefully resting on the back of his hand glowed a bit before its shape changed into something curved, thin, and..._was that a cane? _She gaped in disbelief—the said cane was used by Reborn to smack it (very harshly, she might add) down on the top of Lambo's head, making him stop in his tracks and flinch at the sudden pain.

As the man's form began to tremble due to the amount of pain, she resisted the urge to face-plant, her eye twitching; _that was pathetic_. The way his head was angled still made his eyes shadowed, but (even if she had only known him for a day) she could clearly tell he was about to cry. She cringed at seeing the infamous triple bump (courtesy of Reborn, who was now calmly watching the scene unfold, still perched on Tsuna's head); _that has to hurt. _His shoulders trembled, and if she concentrated her earing enough (or maybe even use chakra to enhance it, but she couldn't rely on chakra _everytime_) she could vaguely hear him mutter softly with a strained and pain-filled voice, "Hold...it...in...!"

That was all he got out before he ran off crying (or more like bawling; those tears were waterfalls), the back of his arm being used to stop the tears that fell from his eyes—unfortunately, that failed, so as he left, a trail of wet tears was left behind. Her lips pursed; _that was...sad. Just _really _sad. _Tsuna, who's shoulders have stopped shaking, was now sweatdropping, his brown eyes following the man (or the boy stuck in a [_**HOT!**_] man's body), "H-He hasn't changed a bit..." She nodded her head weakly, the events replaying in her mind; _not one bit_—_he's still a crybaby._

Sakura, remembering they still had class to attend to, let out a tired sigh and sluggishly stalked off in the direction they had come from. Looking over her shoulder, she raised a slim pink eyebrow at the two questioning boys (Reborn had suddenly disappeared) while fixing her bag strap on her shoulder, "Well? Aren't we going to class?" After a few moments of blinking, realization dawned on their faces and they trailed after her to stop at their sides. And as they walked back to class—with a scowling Gokudera to her right and a dead-looking Tsuna to her left—she idly wondered what happened to the word, 'normal.'

She had a feeling that this would be classified as a normal morning from now on.

* * *

><p>Her mom had told her that today's 'special bento of love' (which she clearly nicknamed it because she put all her love and effort into a small, little teensy-weensy bento) was super exciting. And she knew that whenever the word 'exciting' comes out from her mom's mouth, it usually means experimenting—which <em>also <em>means that she had randomly threw in spices and ingredients until the ending out come tastes good. Usually, the 'special bento of love' would be made whenever her mom was running late for work and she didn't have enough time to make a regular bento (a regular bento was made with more love than the other one, for some odd reason), and it would always have hearts and cute things decorated on top.

And on today's menu? Fried rice made out of lobster, shrimp, and crab (which were all provided from dinner the night before), along with—and she absolutely had _no _idea of why the heck her mom would put it in her lunch—_natto. _As soon as she had cracked open the lid of the light pink box, she was met with the ammoniated smell of the fermented beans—thankfully, her mom had separated the main food with a lettuce leaf that the darn beans were placed on. Nearly gagging, she ran to the nearest trash can and looked around for one who'd be watching; when there was no one around, she held her breath and opened the box once again and quickly shoved the beans into the trash with her chopsticks (those would need to be sterilized and washed three times before use; luckily, she had brought an extra pair).

_**THAT IS SO DISGUSTING! **_Her nose scrunched up, looking at the trash in distaste before sauntering off towards the tree she usually ate at during lunch. The tree was semi-secluded since everyone chose to eat inside the classrooms to hang out with their friends that had a bench to sit under; this was the only part of her life that remained in her usual routine, even with all the disruption from her used-to-be peaceful life, she'd always go to that tree and eat her lunch—it was the only time of day that she actually looked forward to (besides practice, of course) for some peace and quiet time if everything else was in chaos. And right now, she was too busy enjoying the natto-free fried rice (it was actually pretty good) to notice three boys walking towards her_._

"Sakura-chan!" _Oh please, not now! _Holding back a sigh, she lifted her head from her lunch and gazed at the trio that stood a few feet away with their lunches in their hands—she forced a smile, giving them a small wave as they took the empty spaces next to her: Yamamoto to her left, Tsuna to her right, then Gokudera next to him.

While Gokudera and Yamamoto argued (well, more like Gokudera insulting Yamamoto, who replied with a cheery smile and a laugh), she inwardly groaned; _why can't they just leave me alone for once! _They did _not _need to take away her personal time! And so, with the agenda to scurry away from the group of boys and expertly hide herself from the world until lunch was over, she closed her bento, re-wrapped it, picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder with a small grunt, responding to their confused faces with another forced smile and the wave of her hand, "I'm finished—I'll see you three in class!"

Her good-bye was unheard, however, because as soon as the brunette had opened his lunch, he yelped in surprise; immediately, she whipped her head towards him and gaped at what was in his lunch—_were those worms? __**GROSS! **_And worms they were; not only that, but the rice had taken to a disgusting shade of purple that made her stomach lurch at the sight of it—it must've been nasty, because she could practically _see _the stench emanating from it. She reeled back; _the stench made the tree's leaves die! _As if on cue, nearly every single leaf on the once beautiful and luscious tree withered and browned, falling off of the branches and onto the ground around them. A lone leaf stood proudly at the top of the tree before withering and dying like the rest, falling onto Tsuna's head of brown.

While Yamamoto and Tsuna were wondering what had happened to the tree and why it had suddenly turned autumn, she noticed Gokudera had nearly dropped his lunch, his emerald eyes going wide and his jaw dropping at the sight of the purple-hued and worm-infested rice, "N-No way! That's..."

She raised an eye brow, craning her head to get a better look at the lunch; _just what was it? _It didn't seem harmless—it just looked like someone had misplaced their bait for fishing with Tsuna's lunch. Something buzzed in her ear and she quickly recognized it as a fly; with a scowl lacing her features, she shooed it off in the direction of the brown-haired boy, but once it had flown over his lunch, it dropped to the floor. It didn't move at all.

Her eyes widened; _what the heck? _Did...Tsuna's lunch kill a fly? The fly still did not move a bit, and she inwardly gaped. Her eyes traveled once more to the box in his hands and noticed how purple it was; usually, anything that was purple was somehow related to _poison_. Poison _killed_ things (like the tree and the fly)—did that mean his lunch was _poisoned? _She gasped in realization, knocking the small box out of his hands and onto the grassy floor (she noted Gokudera had not said anything about that—usually, he'd be barking at her about how she dared do that to boss or something). Tsuna recoiled and nearly fell off of the bench at her sudden action, "S-Sakura-chan, what are you—"

"Look!" She pointed at the place where the box had fallen; the contents inside had spilled out and onto the floor, making the grass it was on wither and die. She was about to take a closer look and inspect it, her hand outstretched to lift the box up when Reborn's voice interrupted her, "I wouldn't touch that if I were you. Your hand could become severely burned with one touch—or even worse, it could render your entire arm useless for the rest of your life."

Her head snapped up—along with Tsuna's, Yamamoto's, and Gokudera's heads—and gazed at the baby, who was standing in a secret hiding place in the base of the tree, sipping on a cup of tea; behind him, she could clearly see a small room filled with furniture, books, and a chadelier (_so you're fancy, huh?_), yet what she really wanted to know was how all of that can fit inside a tree trunk. Of course, that wasn't the situation at hand, so she brushed off her trivial thoughts and crinkled her brow at Reborn, "What is that, Reborn-san? It kills things without even _touching _it—is it...is it some sort of poison?"

"Bianchi, you can come out," he said, completely ignoring her question. She bristled; she _hated _being ignored—wait, who was Bianchi? She was about to demand for an explanation of what was going on when something from the corner of her eye moved, emerging from a shadowy corner nearby. Her eyes narrowed as she unconsciously moved next to Tsuna's shocked form; walking towards them was a woman—her hair was a pale purplish-pink that fell to her waist, with a well-endowned bosom, a tattoo of a scopion on her right upper arm, and emerald eyes that were the same hue as Gokudera's, wearing a tight tank top that exposed her belly button and tight leather pants—to complete the outfit, she wore high-heeled leather boots.

"B-Big sis...!" Her taken-aback gaze switched to Gokudera, who's face had begun to contort in pain. _**SHE'S HIS **_**SISTER? **

That was all he had gotten out before he fell to his knees, arms cradling his stomach in pain. Her medical instincts were taking over; in a mere second, she was crouching at his side, an arm slung around his shoulder to steady him while the other was positioned to fight any time—the leather gloves could wait another day, and she had a feeling that this woman would be trouble. Next to her, the silver-haired boy let out a small groan, his hand clenching the spot over his stomach. She bit her lip nervously; _he couldn't have eaten anything that was poisoned, would he? _Concentrating on her earlier practices with Shizune when she was 13, she sent some chakra to the palm of her hand after moving his hands on his stomach aside.

_Focus on searching for the problem..._in order to prevent losing her concentration, she closed her eyes and drowned out all the sounds around her (including Gokudera's weak mutters for her to get away, but she woldn't be getting any of that), making sure her chakra safely searched his internal organs for anything wrong; she needed to be careful—she hadn't been practicing on those procedures for nearly eight months so her skills dealing with sending chakra into another's body (and _not _sending chakra as a means of punching them with a chakra-enhanced fist) was a bit rusty, and if something wrong were to happen, her chakra could accidentally spike up and slice something.

After a few more moments of searching, nothing had turned up and she pulled her hand away with her brow furrowed in confusion and frustration. She bit her lip; _she had found nothing_—no bad foods, no poison, absolutely nothing that could have caused it. What was causing that pain, then? Gokudera's voice still-pained voice brought her back to earth before he weakly shoved her arm off of his shoulder and sending the long-haired woman a glance from his slump on the floor, "W-What...are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you, too, Hayato." There was no sarcasrm underlying that statement, as the oldest woman sent the said boy a soft stare before turning her attention back to the coffee-sipping baby that watched from his comfy seat in his little tree house. The next thing that happened really surprised her; instead of announcing Reborn's impending death like the previous newcomer had (_where _was _Lambo, anyway?_), the woman's pretty face softened, her emerald eyes expressing—Sakura's face became puzzled—_longing _and _pure love. _And..._was that a blush? _Low and behold, her cheeks were dusted a pale red. The woman spoke (sqealed, actually) again, "Reborn!"

The said baby nodded before taking another sip from his coffee, "Ciao-su, Bianchi." The woman—Bianchi, Sakura mentally noted—blushed once more before looking away, twirling a lock of her silky-looking hair between her pink-nailed fingers as if she were a pre-teen talking to her long-time crush. The pinkette inwardly pursed her lips as she watched the two converse, with Bianchi being a totally different person than she was a few moments ago (from dangerously mysterious to Reborn-fangirl) and the baby casually replying, taking sips from his drink.

Her eyes traveled to the boys near her; Gokudera was still kneeling on the floor while grunting in pain (even though he'd been insulting her ever since they had met, she couldn't say she wasn't worried for his well-being; also, it irked her that she couldn't find what was wrong), Tsuna just looked as if he was about to go crazy with all the events that had happened, while Yamamoto was simply looking back and forth between the baby and the woman, his amber eyes analyzing the two in curiosity. She inwardly blanched; _just how old was Bianchi, anyway? _She didn't look older than 17 or 18, but wouldn't she count as a _pedophile _if she was into Reborn, who was still an infant? _**That's disturbing! **_

While the pinkette's head was beginning to fill up with mental images of a young woman kissing an infant (and not the 'oh you're such a cutie I could eat you all up' way, but the 'I love you and I never want to let you go ever again so stay with me my darling' way), she caught the sound of Bianchi's voice, "Reborn, you don't belong here in Japan, you belong with me in the mafia underworld, making big hits—that's why I came here to bring you back with me." Her emerald eyes widened; _she was in the mafia, too! _She needed to be wary of her.

"I specifically told you that I can't, Bianchi. I need to stay here and train Tsuna to be the Tenth Vongola Boss." This had elicited a sad cry from the older woman's mouth, as she looked away with her stormy green eyes clouded in sorrow, "Oh, no, Reborn! I can't let that happen to you..." The pinkette wondered if she was crazy when she saw something glint dangerously in her eyes—she didn't have a good feeling about it, either.

"But...but if something were to happen to the tenth generation boss, then...then you'd be able to come back with me, right?" Despite the sad face, Sakura knew something was up. Her emerald eyes narrowed at the older woman; _was she implying something? _Although she didn't know her, the pinkette concluded that Bianchi was in love with Reborn, and was trying to get him to go back with her to Italy—if what she had said ealier was going to foreshadow her future actions, then Sakura would have to be extra careful and alert; she would let nothing happen to Tsuna, and if the older woman wanted to have Reborn, then she'd either stay in Japan and bear with the training or go back to Italy empty-handed and alone.

After wiping at the corner of her eye, Bianchi turned around, her hips swaying as she did so, "Oh, Reborn...once the tenth is dead, I'll come back for you." And with that, she made her way towards school buildings, with Sakura's calculating and suspicious eyes never leaving her retreating form. Something deep in her gut told her that she wasn't just going to let go of Reborn so easily—the glint in her eyes were proof of that. She turned her gaze back to the four other males with her—incredulously, Yamamoto was comfotably eating his lunch (_**DID HE NOT JUST LISTEN TO THE CONVERSATION? HE SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT ALL OF THIS WEIRD TALK OF 'ITALY' AND 'MAFIA UNDERGROUND!'**_), piping out cheerfully after he finished swallowing his food, "That was your sister, Gokudera? She's very beautiful...eh?"

She bit her lip in worry, once again crouching to Gokudera's side along with Tsuna; the silver-haired boy had doubled over in pain, one hand on his stomach while the other was digging into the grassy floor, kuckles becoming white. Nodding to the brunette, she pried his arm away from his stomach and slung it over her shoulder while Tsuna did the same. She grunted a bit, nearly stumbling since Gokudera weighed a lot more than her but regained her composure and adjusting his arm on her shoulder and slowly stood up along wtih Tsuna, the pained boy in their arms, "We need to get him to the nurse's office."

Steadily, they made their way to the stairs with Yamamoto on their tail and carrying their stuff. While they silently and slowly walked down the sixteeth step, she focused on the reason why she couldn't detect anything wrong inside Gokudera's body; from his head to his toes, his vitals were perfectly fine, and there were no traces of poison to speak of either—if there was, her chakra would've detected something wrong with him. It had been a long time since she had used that technique, so maybe she had just done the procedure wrong? Or—or maybe the poison that was used (if there _was _a poison) was created so that it wouldn't be detectable for a clean death?

"Gah!" A loud yelp caught her ears and as soon as she lifted her head up she was met with the stair-sliding form of a certain brunette, who's foot had somehow slipped on the edge of one of the stairs; fortunately for them, he had let go of Gokudera's arm so that no one would go tumbling after him. But because Gokudera wanted to be Tsuna's right-hand man, he just _had _to go and check if he was okay (_he looked pretty fine to me! He just looked a bit dizzy and...in pain..._). She felt him pull away from her, his taller form weakly trying to make his way down the steps and towards the boy at the end, "B...Boss! A-Are you alright?"

"Hey, watch out! You're still recovering, aren't you?" She reprimanded, grabbing ahold of his arm in an attempt to get him to stay still since he technically was injured. The boy sent her a glare and tried to pull his arm of her grip—which, sadly for her—caused her to lose her balance and _slip _on the step she stood on; how this happened, she had no idea (it was probably because of those white shoes of her's—dammit, they weren't slip-proof!), but before her whole front side was being bruised and dirtied (_**THIS WAS A NEW UNIFORM, DAMMIT!**_), the first thing that had came to her mind was, _'Just what did I do to deserve all of this?'_

She had counted exactly ten steps before she landed on something a bit too fleshy and warm for her liking that had contoured with the curves of her back (_and why did the ground feel so soft?_)—something sqeaked beneath her, and as she tried to make her new headache calm down (_stupid stairs, stupid Gokudera, stupid shoes_), she brought a hand to her probably-bruised knee..._why did her knee feel so numb? _She was sure her knee didn't get injured in the fall—her emerald eyes slowly lowered to her hand, where it was perched on her _clothed _knee. She was also sure that her socks didn't go past her calf.

"OI! Get off of boss, pinky!" Gokudera growled, who looked like he was about to whack her with a rolled-up newspaper if he still wasn't in pain, one arm on his hurting stomach while the other gripped the stair's railings, his face scrunched up in a pained glare. She automatically prepared to retort and tell him to stop calling her that (and he _should_, because she respectfully calls him 'Gokudera-san;' oh, how she wanted to address him by 'jerk') when she registered what he had just said: 'boss?' _Wait..._her eyes traveled back to 'her' clothed knee and gave it a small squeeze that she didn't feel.

"Sa...Sakura-chan...ow..." A familiar voice muttered weakly behind her, hot breath tickling the back of her neck and the shell of her ear and—_oh god, she had just fallen on top of Tsunayoshi Sawada. _Immediately, she scrambled to her feet all the while stammering apologizes that probably went unheard, nearly tripping over the still-dazed boy, who's back was propped up against the wall, with her face heating up from the exeeded amount of physical contact. She extended her hand towards him and waited a few moments—his brown eyes stared cross-eyed at it for a moment before slowly grabbing it with his free hand (the other was nursing the back of his head) and nearly stumbling when he got to his feet.

Not wanting her embarrassment to go any further (_really, did it have to be Tsuna? __**I wouldn't have minded if it was Yamamoto-kun, though!**_), she crossed her arms over her chest and sent an irritated glance at the silver-haired boy, who was still making his way down the stairs with a questioning Yamamoto by his side; through the corner of her eyes, she could see the light pink that dusted the brunette's cheeks. Her (_stupid_) blush wouldn't go down—her mind began to replay what had happened only moments ago, and to make it even more worse, it caused her cheeks to become a new shade of red (this would be the only shade of red in history to go down as her top ten worst colors to wear); _stupid stairs, stupid Gokudera, stupid shoes, stupid Tsuna, stupid hormones, stupid _blush—_**JUST GO DOWN ALREADY!**_

"C' mon," she snapped, roughly prying Gokudera's arm from his stomach as soon as he reached the last step and slinging it over her shoulder (this had earned her a glare amd a snarl while Yamamoto and Tsuna silently complied, taking their respective spots; Yamamoto at her side while Tsuna on the other side of Gokudera). She _certainly _wasn't in the mood at the moment (luckily, the red had died down to its usual pale color) and all she wanted to do was get through school, go to practice, and go home to sleep. And so, the rest of the trip to the nurse's office had been uneventful and uncomfortably silent the whole time aside from Gokudera's pained grunts and the sounds of their footsteps echoing throughout the empty hall.

Once they were at their destination, Yamamoto—being the gentleman he was (_**kyaaa! How cool!**_)—opened the door, and the three made their way to the first cot where they gently lied the silver-haired boy down, Reborn mysteriously popping up and making himself comfortable on the windowsill above him. Tucking him in, she sat in the stool that was next to the bed and sat with her elbows resting comfortably on her knees. For some reason, there was no nurse on duty today. She inwardly scoffwed; _just why the hell do we have a nurse's office if there aren't any nurses around? _To be honest, she had never _once _been inside the place, only passing it on some occasions; to be honest, she didn't even know if the school _had _a nurse.

_Oh well, if you don't have one, make do with what you got_—a medic ninja.

"I'll go and find the nurse—they shouldn't be that far, seeing as lunch is already over," the tallest of the four announced, looking over his shoulder before walking towards the door. She silently and secretly waited until she heard the door click shut, enhancing her hearing with a bit of chakra to be certain that his he left the premises and be out of hearing range (sure, it was impossible for him to over-hear their conversation, but she was just being paranoid); after he was gone, she made her way over to Gokudera, gently pulling off the blanket. Tsuna noticed and tried to put the blanket back on, "Sakura-chan, what are you doing?"

She ignored him for the sake of her face _not _heating up and chose to concentrate on Gokudera's questioning/irritated face, "I used my chakra to find out what was wrong and...and I couldn't find anything." Her brow furrowed at him, ignoring the brown-haired boy that looked back and forth between the two with an eye brow raised, and she continued with her voice laced with worry and slight exasperation, "I concluded it was either an undetecable poison or that I'm completely doing the whole thing wrong." Even if she didn't want to believe it, the latter could be possible—_oh, master wouldn't be so happy if she heard that._

To her surprise, Gokudera merely shook his head, "It's neither—usually my stomach pains happen whenever I see big sis' face." She blinked.

"What? Is that even possible?" Tsuna questioned, his eyes wide. The silver-haired boy nodded; in the meantime, Sakura was completely stumped at his answer. _So she had went through all that thinking, all those theories, only for them to be _entirely _wrong? _He wasn't poisoned, he didn't eat anything bad, and she wasn't doing anything wrong—though at that last one, she should've been relieved, but _really? _Tsuna's question lingered in her head, biting her lip in thought; Gokudera said that he only got stomach pains whenever he saw his sister's face. She doubted that it was because she was too pretty, and she doubted that it was because she was ugly.

"Bianchi is a hitman that specializes in poison cooking," Reborn had piped out of nowhere, turning to Tsuna who—she dully noted—reeled back, his mouth opening in a surprised outburst. She tilted her head to the side in question, an eye brow raising; _poison cooking? _She was probably responsible for Tsuna's lunch being all purple and gross-looking. But that still didn't explain why Gokudera always got those pains. As if the said boy read her mind (was she predictable or something?), he muttered, "When I was young, she always cooked me food whenever I had piano recitals because my dad thought it would enhance my talents...at the time, I didn't know that whatever she cooked apparently turned poisonous and with all the recitals, it left me traumatized."

..._was that even possible? _She sweatdropped; of course, she remembered that _anything _was possible when it has do with the mafia. Time-traveling? Yeah. A talent for cooking poisonous things? Uh-huh. Having stomach pains as trauma? Certainly. But her? She _really _didn't want to deal with anything right now. She inwardly growled, her temper rising; this had been her worst day so far—her new freaking uniform that her mom had bought her was now ruined, with dirt stains all over and now she had to deal with _Home Ec _and even if she was the daughter of an aspiring chef, she had no talents whatsoever in cooking.

"Uhm, Sakura-chan," the brunette called, causing her to whip her head towards him dangerously—she didn't want to talk, she really didn't, but she had to in the end because _nothing ever went her way_—and raise an eye brow for the trembling boy to continue (_**you better be scared! I'm not in the mood!**_), "W-Well, that word...er, you said that you used you chakra to find out what was wrong with him. What is that, exactly? I've heard you use it before." _Oh. Great. She had to explain what the hell chakra was. _No matter how much she wanted to storm out of the room and go to Home Ec class and bake an over-cooked cupcake, she needed to explain so he wouldn't get confused in the future.

"Chakra is a form of energy in every living thing that can be used to create jutsu and do the extraordinary," she replied, the definition of chakra forver imprinted in the walls of her mind, "When you mold your physical energy and your spiritual energy, it creates chakra. Civillians such as yourself and every other person in the world have little to no chakra, but because I was trained to expand the amount of chakra I had, I'm able to use it for special techniques. Like when someone is injured, I can use my it to speed up the healing process, regenerating cells and muscles and tissue until it is fully healed. I can also use my chakra for offense—breathing out fire, manipulating water, and—my favorite so far—creating craters the size of baseball fields with a single punch."

"A...A-A single punch!" Her temper died out a little after her little explanation, and as she watched Tsuna nearly flip out, she couldn't help but laugh; that was her first reaction to hearing all about chakra, too. She nodded, "And my master can do many more things." She gasped, causing the brown-haired boy to jump; her face lit up in an excited smile, but she inwardly smirked at the opprotunity to show off some of her hard-worked ninja skills. "I can also walk on walls!"

Not waiting for him to reply, she stood up from her spot and walked to the wall, brushing off the curious stares from Gokudera and Tsuna. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on sending chakra to the soles of her feet, and once she felt sure she wouldn't fall, she placed a foot on the wall. Once the foot was secure and stuck to the wall like glue, she concentrated on the other foot, doing the same until she had both feet on the wall. _**Oh yeah, I'm so cool, SHANNARO! **_She smiled smugly at the two gaping boys before casually walking up until she couldn't walk any more (the ceiling was a no-no seeing as she didn't wear shorts under her skirt and she did _not _want to give these two hormonal boys the privellege of seeing her underwear), putting all her weight on one leg with placing her hands on her hips, "And this is one of the miracles of chakra—"

She was interrupted by the door clicking open—this had caused her to nearly have a heart attack and, unfotunately for her, her concentration. As soon as the thought of being caught came to her mind, she immediately thought of the consequences her master would punish her with and (for the sake of her life) fell down. No matter how much she hated to admit it, she really didn't know the door was about to open and it had _scared the freaking crap out of her. _From behind the curtains that was kept to give sick students their privacy, Yamamoto's voice could be heard, "I couldn't find the nurse, but we should get back to class soon. I told the teacher that we were here and he said we should get back as soon as possible."

_**DAMN IT! **_

Her whole front was hurting like hell—even worse than the time she ahd fallen down the stairs. From her slump on the floor, she glared into the (un)lucky tile her face had landed on, seeing the curtains being pushed aside followed by Yamamoto's shoes (she distantly heard him question about her and why she was on the floor, but she was just so irritated at the moment to even care). _HER TEMPER WAS BACK AGAIN AND SHE REALLY WANTED TO PUNCH SOMETHING RIGHT NOW. _Growling, she winced when she moved but regained her posture, huffing as she hastily brushed the dirt off of the front of her uniform. And as she grabbed her messenger bag, she ignored the stares from the three boys and silently walked off to Home Ec with her hands clenched into fists.

Luckily for her, the nearest thing she could punch was just a few doors down in Home Ec—she did not feel one bit sorry when she began to pound (punch) the living daylights out of the dough for bread.

* * *

><p><em>Well school's pretty awesome, :D I have guitar for my elective and it's freaking hilarious. Anyway, I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter (though to be completely honest, I didn't really enjoy writing it D:)<em>—_I apologize for the week's wait, I had a bit trouble writing it since my brain came up a bit blank at some parts (ahem, Lambo's apprearance at school, ahem). _

_And I just wanted to say that there will be some Hibari and Ryohei interaction in the next few chapters, for those of you who wanted some. As for the Yamamoto/Sakura, I just want to make it clear that it is simply the 'he's popular so he's cute' kind of crush she has; but who knows—it could turn out to be the main pairing; the main pairing is yet to be announced, though, and like I said in the second chapter, there will be hints of Sakura/Harem for now.  
><em>

_I just wanted to say thank you all for reviewing and favoriting and alerting and viewing and—well, you get the picture, but yeah, thanks for everything, guys! Keep on the look-out for the next update!_

(I do not own Naruto or Katekyo Hitman Reborn—I simply make fanfiction for them.)_  
><em>


	5. irrationality? preposterous

When Sakura got to school that day, she was extremely giddy with her excitement barely contained as she sat in her assigned seat in class; a toothy and bright smile graced her pale features, dainty hands swiftly arranging the contents in her desk while her feet swung idly from the edge of her chair as if she were a little girl receiving candy. She inwardly cheered; _the test results were going to be announced today! __**And this will be the day I will get my reputation as the smartest girl in Namimori BACK!**_

Lately, her scores for school had been decreasing bit by bit (slowly but surely, it would turn into the worst grade of her life) and she knew that if she didn't do something soon, her reputation would end up in disaster, and she would no longer be known as 'that one smart girl from Namimori with the pink hair,' but she would ultimately be known forever as, 'that one girl with pink hair.' AND _THAT _WAS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE.

She completely refused to be known forever as 'that one girl' who everyone knew just because of her unusual features—no, she despised that thought; she didn't want that to be her official title. She'd rather have something like, 'Namimori Middle School's prided student' or 'The most honorable student in Namimori Middle School,' but _no, _people would only remember her for her pink hair so she had to stick to something close to that.

Her reputation was on the line—but she had been studying real hard for the past few days, making sure that she would know the answer to any question the test would throw at her (which was multiple choice; she absolutely _adored _taking her time to color in the bubbles perfectly without any pencil or eraser blemish) and letting her even out her previous scores. Not only was she confident in that test, but the test coming up in the next few days was a test in her best subject: Language Arts (and how she _loved _Language Arts). She was certain this would be the day that she would once again be known as Namimori Middle School's smartest girl—

"I will now announce the test scores for the previous test," the teacher called, and once again, her excitement could barely be contained.

In the seat behind her, Gokudera had muttered something rude about how she was annoying (or something like that, but usually all remarks towards her were insulting and/or telling her to back away from Tsuna) but she was too focused on listening for her name to be called out to actually retort with a snarky and sarcastic comment about his stupid-looking hair. Impatiently sitting in her seat, she leaned forward with eager and anticipating eyes as her hands gripped the hem of her skirt under her desk—random names were called out, and one by one, every student save for her, Yamamoto, Tsuna, and Gokudera had been called, receiving their test and talking amongst their friends.

Her excitement died down into anxiety as she realized the teacher had not called her name yet; _what was wrong? _Usually, she would just receive her score with a 100 circled and underlined at the right-hand corner of the first page, but maybe—_wait a second_. Her chest bloomed into pure bliss when she remembered that the students who were usually called last to receive their tests were the ones who had gotten the highest score in class. She bit her lip to stop herself from jumping on top of her desk to dance like an idiot; _**oh yeah, perfect score!**_

The sounds of rustling paper caught her attention and she immediately whipped her head up to stare at the teacher in sheer pride as he called out her name, "Hayato Gokudera!" Her moment of pride! She was about to stand up and skip to her teacher to shake his hand as if she were grabbing her diploma—wait, _since when was her name Hayato Gokudera? _

Realization and disappointment dawned on her as the said boy walked passed her desk with his hands shoved into his pockets, a scowl adorning his handsome features as he made his way to the teacher's desk—she bit the insides of her cheek to keep from snorting in laughter; that jerk had probably scored the worst score in class. It served him right for treating her so harshly—

"You scored a 100," the teacher remarked proudly, making Sakura's jaw drop in disbelief; all previous thoughts of Gokudera being a stereo-typical rebel (with the bracelets and the potty-mouth and the attitude and the bad grades and the refusal to do any actual work in school) flew out the door in just a semi-second.

And as he hastily snatched his paper back, she couldn't help but take a deep breath and give him a silent congratulatory glance—after he had proved his worth with his score, they were, she daresay, _equals_, and anyone who scored perfectly on a test like that (she hated to admit it, but the test was somewhat difficult for her; but it was really unbelievable—her? Thinking the test is difficult?) was a knowledgeable being like her.

"Sakura Haruno!" Her name was called, and she perked up, standing up from her seat with her eyes wide in anticipation; _now _was the moment of pride and pure joy! She inwardly smiled in self-satisfaction, biting her lip to keep herself from squealing out—_I'll show the world that I've got it in me! I WILL! _"Tsunayoshi Sawada, Yamamoto Takeshi!" She blinked in confusion, head darting around to take a look at the two boys who slowly rose from their seat with their attention on the teacher—she noted the said man's face was full of disappointment, which just added to her confusion; _what the heck? _Tsuna and Yamamoto had perfect scores, too? That totally _unbelievable! _

She paused in her thoughts as she glanced through the corner of her eye at the tall dark-haired boy; he stood tall and relaxed with his ever-so-present bright smile, amber eyes waiting patiently for the teacher's further instructions—well, she could believe Yamamoto to have scored 100, but Tsuna on the other hand...she turned her gaze to Tsuna; the brown-haired boy stood, his hands at his sides as his light brown orbs stared at the glasses-wearing man, anxiety written all over his face.

She'd be honest to herself; _Tsuna was a lost cause. _Sure, she was sounding really mean at the moment, but the truth hurt—and the truth was that Tsuna was a cowardly, stuttering, timid, goofball that had a knack for tests that scored under 25. If he wanted to make it out in the world (or on a serious note, if he wanted to make a magnificent mafia boss), then he'd better learn how to work hard and get his act together.

She was his friend, his ally, and there was no way she'd let him go down in school or on the battlefield, but in order to do so, he needed to _suck it up _or else he wouldn't last one day as the official Tenth Generation Vongola Boss. If he weren't a friend and was instead a complete stranger, then she'd hate his entire guts because she _hated _slackers.

"You three..." Leaning towards the teacher as if to beckon him to go on, she imagined what her grades would look like after the teacher had logged down their scores into his grade book; hopefully, that B for his class would go up to an A (or better yet, an _A+_), and she would finally get those straight A's she'd been aiming for for the past year—getting straight A's and A+'s had been her life goal, and as each and every grade came and went, she had been getting positive feedback and comments from all of her past teachers.

And so, she smiled as soon as the teacher spoke once more, his voice hard, and she immediately knew she was going to accomplish her goal once more, "You three scored the _lowest, _with scores of 23, 20, and 20. Because you failed test, I'm going to have to assign you extra homework." With her whole body freezing, she calmly registered what the _hell _her teacher had just said; the words 'lowest' and 'failed' bounced off of the inner walls of her mind, and as she numbly made her way to the front desk to grab her sheet weakly from her teacher's hands, she stared down at her paper with her eyes wide with disbelief.

_**JUST HOW THE HELL COULD I FAIL? I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT, I FOLLOWED DIRECTIONS, I RE-CHECKED ALL MY ANSWERS—**_**THERE IS JUST **_**NO **_**FREAKING WAY I COULD FAIL THIS TEST, DAMMIT!**

She re-read each and every single answer, looking back and forth between the answer sheet and the paper that had the questions on it; each and every answer was correct, and her temper boiled dangerously inside her—with each second that passed, the more she wanted to shove her answer sheet in her teacher's face and give him a good smack or two on the back of his gray-haired and balding head; _was he _blind _or something? _Because she had the correct answers, yet the teacher had written a big red X on the number next to each of them...her brow furrowed in confusion when she realized the numbers did no correspond to the answers. _What the hell?_

_Wait, I didn't bubble in A for question 29_—_nor did I bubble in C for question 42, or A for question 61. _Her answers were all in the wrong places, and she didn't know what the heck was wrong with her paper; she was so certain that she had bubble in the correct answers. She inwardly groaned, her hands clenching the sides of the paper as she slammed it down her desk and ran a hand through her bangs in pure frustration, emerald eyes skimming the sheet for what was wro—_what the hell._

Her eye twitched a few times before picking up the paper slowly with trembling hands, her boiling gaze focused solely on a particular answer; the answer for question 24 had the incorrect answer because she had bubbled in the answer for question 25 on the same line, and because of that one little mistake, it caused a chain reaction, so the answer for question 26 was bubbled in for the answer space of question 25, the answer for 27 in 26, the answer for 28 in 27, and so on and so forth. _She had made a careless mistake_—this thought alone made her inwardly scream and violently berate herself at how stupid she had been; _stupid, stupid, stupid Sakura! _

Why couldn't she have seen that _one _mistake that had caused her test to be like that? She resisted the urge to cry as she slid down in her seat while covering her face in shame, dropping her paper on top of her desk and hung her head.

_"Hey, isn't Sakura supposed to be, like, really smart or something?"_

_"Yeah, she is! Well, she used to be...she was always the one to get called up for perfect scores!"_

_"I heard she's failing most of her classes now."_

_"I heard she was bullied before, y' know, in her old school. They called her things like 'Forehead Girl' and stuff."_

With the whispers getting to her, she inwardly growled. _**People need to learn how to shut their traps and mind their own damn business! SHANNARO! **_Sakura looked up from her desk with a face of irritation, her previous expression wiped off the face of the earth as she stared down each and everyone's moving mouths (and they were stupid to be oblivious to the fact that she could hear them very clearly): eye twitching, brow furrowed, and her pink lips set in a small scowl—no one seemed to notice and continued their gossiping about her 'rumored' past (_what the hell? How do they know all these things about me? And I certainly did _not _have a traumatic past! Damn rumors and gossip mongers..._) before the teacher quieted them down.

She saw the disappointment flash in his eyes as he sent her a chaste glance before eying the two standing boys with his hand outstretched to hand them papers; she sniffed, trudging her way down the aisles of desks before weakly taking the miniature stack of stapled papers from the older man while Tsuna and Yamamoto took their's quietly, "Your work is due tomorrow, and if you don't complete this..." _You fail. Again. _She didn't need to be psychic to know what he was going to say; making her way back to her desk, she spotted Gokudera's smirk that was directed at her. _Smug bastard..._

She ignored his gaze and quietly took her seat, all but shoving her papers in her desk as her temper rose and the teacher began to go on with that day's lesson about the Quadratic Formula. She couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that she would now probably be given the title 'Loser Sakura' from now on, and she couldn't help but mentally berate herself of how she was too busy and too tired with training that she wouldn't have enough energy to study. _She missed the perfect opportunity to redeem herself. _And now she had to pay the consequences for being to careless: six pages of pure polynomials and math problems. _Just fantastic._

"—kura-chan? Sakura-chan, are you alright?" The pinkette blinked and snapped out of her musings, looking up from the smooth surface of her desk and focusing on the smiling faces of Yamamoto and Tsuna—her 'FAIL' buddies. Her green eyes scanned the room for any other students and when she spotted empty desks, she concluded that school had ended (wow, she didn't know day dreaming could take up so much time—_she really needed to stop spacing out sometimes_), and turned her gaze back to the two boys in front of her. She sent them a half-hearted apologetic smile, grabbing her bag off from the back of her chair amd standing up.

"Sorry, I dazed off...did you need something?" Cleaning off the top of her desk, she stuffed everything neatly into the small compartment, her eyes glancing at the text book labeled, 'Language Arts: Literature and Poetry;' for a moment, something in the back of her mind nagged at her, but she brushed it off with a shrug and turned back towards the two 14-year-olds in front of her.

Yamamoto grinned, placing a hand on her shoulder which made her become unbalanced for a bit before she regained her posture, "Well, we were wondering if you'd like to join us in doing homework; the more, the merrier, right? And plus, we could use your help in understanding everything." Tsuna nodded in agreement, his wide brown eyes staring at her with a bit of hope.

With one of her hands unconsciously adjusting the yellow strap over her shoulder, she contemplated on whether or not she should go, her free hand tapping her chin in thought; she didn't have practice today (Tsunade had cancelled practice since she had some business to attend to back in Italy; something had come up and now she had been requested to make an antidote for a poison that had been used against Vongola IX's men and would return shortly in a few days), and her mom wouldn't be home until 8 at night—so her top priority at the moment would be raising her atrocious grades.

She beamed, "Sure! That'd be a great idea!" The taller boys cheered, and beckoned her to walk with them to the first floor to grab their things from their lockers. She nodded and walked alongside Tsuna as they descended down the stairs.

"Where will we be staying at?" She asked, craning her neck to the two; if she didn't come home before her mom did, then she needed to let her mom know that she was out on a study session (not _date_ or else her mom would go hysterical and would hunt her down to bring her home) so her mom wouldn't get worried. She watched as Tsuna thought for a moment, scratching the back of his head, and opened his mouth when a familiar voice (she could practically imagine the owner with his fedora and his suite—not to mention his weird little green shape-shifting lizard) beat him to it.

"Our place would be the perfect setting to study." A certain squeaky-voiced baby greeted them with a sharp nod as he dropped onto the railing next to them—when she looked up, she barely saw a small trap door from the ceiling above close shut without any sound, and she immediately wondered if he had any other hiding spots around school (like that time he had mysteriously popped up from the ground; she admitted that scared her a bit); through her peripheral vision, Tsuna's face had twisted in surprised horror, a yelp escaping his mouth while Yamamoto watched on with his eye brows raised. It took a few moments before the brunette reacted.

"What? Why do you get to pick the place we study at? That's not fair!" He asked, his hands gripping the railing, frustrated. The smaller figure glanced at him with a nonchalant face.

"I'm your tutor, that's why." Reborn replied nonchalantly, causing him to reacted negatively once more with a cry of protest. The pinkette inwardly sweatdropped; with Reborn being Tsuna's superior, she should've been used to seeing such arguments like those, but she had to admit—seeing a grown and healthy boy be bossed around by a small baby that had an aura of maturity surrounding him is just plain awkward. The scene reminded her of how younger and older siblings would act; _but wasn't the older sibling supposed to be bossing around the younger sibling?_ The thought of seeing an awkward Tsuna stuttering orders at an expectant Reborn made her stifle a giggle.

But the smile was soon knocked off of her face as soon as she realized _Yamamoto _was still present—she glanced at the said boy discreetly, watching carefully and meticulously for his reaction; so far, he had been unresponsive, only choosing to watch the debate between Tsuna and Reborn unfold, his amber eyes traveling between the two. She bit her lip; _wasn't Tsuna worried about Yamamoto being suspicious? _But she had to admt to herself that if she hadn't known Yamamoto, she would've been too suspicious for her own good...but after becoming closer to the baseball player for the past few days, she had discovered that he was—for lack of better term, and in her opinion—clueless. Not once had he reacted negatively to any situation that had to do with the mafia (and the fact that he thought it was all just a game made it worse).

Just as she assumed, Yamamoto was not one bit disturbed at the fact that Tsuna had a baby for tutor—a loud laugh interrupted her musings, causing her attention to fall onto the tall baseball player, who let out another chortle while he clapped the stunned boy on the back, "Your tutor is great, Tsuna!" She inwardly face-palmed; _that would probably be his typical reaction to these kinds of things now..._

Reborn spoke again, turning towards the brunette with a small nod, "I've also called Gokudera seeing as you two might need some help with you with your homework." At the mention of the silver-haired boy's name, she bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from groaning out in displeasure and mentally cursed the baby for his actions; surely, with Gokudera there, things would probably be easier for the other two, but not her her—she was pretty sure she could handle her own, even if her brain was a bit rusty, but she was sure that she could finish her homework with little to no difficulty. Not to mention, he was a total jerk.

Though, Yamamoto thought otherwise, a smile laced on his features, "Oh, that's great! Well, we have more help now." _Psh, he'll help you two, but probably not me. __**That jerk probably underestimated me and assumed that I was stupid! **_

At that thought, her temper flared, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously; she _hated _being underestimated. (She'd be sure to make sure Gokudera got it through his thick head that she wasn't some weak crybaby little girl with no smarts.)

They decided to leave once the brunette let out a sigh of resignation walking away without another word, and as they made their way down the stairs, she looked over her shoulder to see the baby watching them with his big doe eyes, his smile in place; she gave him a small wave before turning her attention to the chatting Yamamoto and Tsuna, adjusting the bag strap on her shoulder once more. (She _really _needed to get rid of that stupid habit.)

* * *

><p>Sakura smiled to herself in content, looking down at her clothes and marveling at how comfortable they were—although the vest was a bit out of date (hey, she found it in her mom's closet), it coordinated well with her own clothes; the white t-shirt was used for training, but she found it to be quite snug, and the vest was was spotless, with a white zipper and in great condition despite it' age (it was also red, she excitedly noted with a bright grin, although there was a weird white circle on the back of it), along with a pair of her black biker shorts for easy movement, white crew socks, and her teal sneakers. With one last look in the mirror (<em><strong>I look good!<strong>_), she smiled once more to herself, satisfaction gracing her lips.

Grabbing her books and homework, she made her way down the stairs and into the living room, walking out the door and making her way to the gate; she didn't know where Tsuna's house was, but then remembered it was the house that they had dropped Lambo off at (before he went and gotten himself blown up by his own grenade). Once the gate was locked, she made her way to Tsuna's house, tucking away her house keys in her bag. It was only then she realized how beautiful the day was; her emerald eyes traveled up to the clear blue sky, then closed as she inhaled the smell of beauty and nature. The sounds of birds chirping, the trees rustling, the wind blowing, people arguing behind her _very loudly_—

"Look, baseball idiot, are you stalking me or something?"

—the smooth pavement of the rode as she took small, slow steps towards her destination (_Just find your happy place, be calm._)—

"Eh? We live near each other, might as well make the trip to Tsuna's house less boring, eh?"

—the smell of baking bread as she passed the deli, making her stomach crave the sweet and crispy roll (_**Find your damn happy place, find your damn happy place...**_)—

"Y' know, that sounds very stalker-ish coming from an oddly too-cheerful guy like you—oi, isn't that Pinky?"

—the sounds of rubber hitting cement, yells being directed at her from behind (_**Ignore them, ignore them, ignore them, DAMMIT!**_)—

"Yo! Sakura, wait up!"

"Baseball freak, shut up! You'll scare her away—see, she's _running from you_, dammit!"

_**Who the heck are these asses? They ruined my freaking moment of **_**peace**_**! I'll **_**pulverize **_**them! **_By now, Sakura was running as fast as she could from the two people behind her, who were still arguing over god-know's-what, and she just couldn't stand it. _Dammit, _she was enjoying the break from the violent world around her and now those two anonymous _hoodlums _behind her (were they _running _after her?) had to go on and disrupt things—unfortunately, their voices were getting louder and louder each second, and each second, the throbbing vein that formed on her forehead when she ran became larger, nearly giving her a migraine. After a few more moments of running—_damn, they were still arguing_—she finally snapped and stopped abruptly.

"SHAAAAANNAAAAAROOO!" She roared, leaking out rays killer-intent that caused the two bickering people behind her to stop their chase and stare at her with raised eye brows; _she was so pissed! _Freaking weirdos nowadays, she couldn't even get a moment of _peace _without being so rudely bothered; they had better be _scared_, because her temper was just waiting to explode into punches and profanities. With her eyes blaring with so much fury that she was beginning to see red, she spun on her heel and raised her fist to threaten them, her mouth open to dish out some can of 'Whoop-Ass' and a side of verbal abuse, "I had it up to _here _with you two _arguing _and I'm about to shove my _foot _into places where _the sun don't shine _and—"

"Haha, Sakura! We finally caught up with you! I never knew you could run so fast." _Eh? _For a few moments, she thought she was hallucinating, because in front of her standing in the flesh was a certain tall, dark-haired boy and the dynamite expert, panting and worn out from their previous chase. Cue the embarrassed face and the awkward shuffling of teal-colored sneakers.

"What the...Yamamoto-kun? Gokudera-san?" _Crap, _she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks—scratching her cheek in embarrassment, she eyed the two in front of her; they wore casual clothing, but for some odd reason, Gokudera had chosen to loose the chains, and necklaces as if he were going to a formal party—heck, he'd even tucked his purple polo shirt into his pants. She sent them an apologetic smile, bowing to them while saying that she was sorry for running off on them, but she was inwardly laughing her butt off at the silver-haired boy's appearance; _**pfffft, that jerk looks so **_**dorky! **_**Bwahahaha! **_

Unaware of her inner thoughts (of course they were unaware! If they weren't, then they'd be mind-readers and that would be freaking creepy—she didn't need anyone knowing how her mind worked), Yamamoto laughed and shook it off with the wave of his hand, "It's alright! The running we did gave me some energy, anyways." She inwardly sweat-dropped; the kid sure was optimistic (_too optimistic_)...though the shorter boy, she noted, still had a scowl on his face (as usual; she guessed the only time he wasn't smiling was when Tsuna was around).

"C' mon, we can't keep the boss waiting," the silver-haired teen mumbled, walking past her with an annoyed huff. The pinkette turned to glare daggers at the boy but was stopped by Yamamoto, who—thankfully—refrained her from knocking her fist into the back of Gokudera's head with small chat. The rest of the trip to Tsuna's house was pleasantly peaceful, despite the bomber insulting the tall baseball player once or twice—heck, the kid even brought out something akin to _firecrackers _out, causing Yamamoto to laugh good-heartedly at how silly they were—but other than that, she surprisingly enjoyed it. Gokudera had even slowed his pace to walk alongside the pinkette (again, she was surprised), hands shoved deep into the recesses of his pockets; sandwiched in between the two taller teens, she couldn't help but notice how..._short _she was compared to them.

_Hey, short height to match that short temper, right? __**DAMN RIGHT IT DOES, SHANNARO! **_(Later on, she would remember that she was only an inch shorter that Tsuna, which made her wonder if Tsuna was secretly short-tempered also.)

Her musings were cut short once they had reached Tsuna's house, which was the same way it was left as when she had left with Yamamoto nearly a week ago, although the fallen branch was gone. Choosing to stay behind the two taller males since she felt a little out of place (she was the _only _girl there besides Tsuna's mom, so it felt a bit awkward), she stayed quiet until the front door opened. When she peeked from the small space between the two boys' shoulders, she spotted Tsuna's mom at the door, waving her hand and causing the two boys to greet her happily. Not wanting to be forgotten, she waved from Yamamoto's side and smiled politely, "Good afternoon!"

The apron-wearing mom—Nana Sawada she remembered; the brown-haired woman was _extremely _nice and cheerful, and she couldn't help but think Tsuna was lucky for having such a wonderful mom like her—beckoned them to come inside, and Sakura smiled politely at her as she passed her; she saw the older woman's large brown orbs brighten with recognition (_it's the pink hair, isn't it?_) and she was immediately greeted with a pat on the shoulder. But something was off—and it probably had to do with something deep in her gut unsettling, feeling as she were being watched.

_Hm...it feels nearby_—when the brunette had gone and sauntered off into the kitchen, the smile on Sakura's face dropped and she suddenly spun on her heel, her emerald eyes scanning the vicinity for anything off-kilter or just plain weird; she searched for shadows, she listened for any muttering, she tried to find anything that would possibly endanger her or anyone's lives. _Nothing at all_—and with that thought, she searched the area once more before her eyes narrowed in suspicion, quietly closing the door behind her and making her way up the stairs.

* * *

><p>Haru Miura was a cheerful girl, yes, and she was quite tolerant of those who were morally corrupted—but when it involved things like the innocence of babies and young girls (oh, gosh, she hated pedophiles; that was just pure disgusting and the concept of becoming romanticallysexually involved with a minor made her sick to her stomach), then she would not have any of it. And that was the entire reason of why she was stealthily stalking the trio of suspicious-looking kids who seem to know who Tsuna was, and were apparently going to his house at the moment. _Tsuna..._that bad influence, he would pay for the crimes he had (possibly) committed!

She inwardly growled, nails digging into the wood of the telephone pole she was hiding behind as she watched the silver-haired boy, the tall boy, and the pink-haired girl walk through the streets with narrowed chocolate-colored eyes; the girl looked innocent enough, and Haru could tell from her smile—she suspected her hair to be dyed (although it was pretty bold of her to do that, she had to admit it was a pretty shade of pink; like the cherry blossoms that bloomed during the spring), but doubted it since her eye brows were also pink. The tall boy seemed cheerful, but she wasn't buying any of it, and the scowl that laced the silver-haired one's lips didn't make things any better.

To her, it looked like the girl was being dragged along into their (possibly) evil schemes, and she would do anything in her power to prevent that from happening—especially when _Reborn _was involved. She tensed visibly when they stopped in front of a modern-looking house, the pink-haired girl hiding behind the two towering boys; she glared at the two boys, who stood in front as if they had some (possibly) evil business to do while the girl was being forced into being there. She inwardly growled, peeking over the telephone once more—the scratch marks from her nails would probably stay there, but she was too focused on being stealthy to notice.

Once the gate opened and the three made their way inside the house, she took the opportunity to run and hide behind the house's outer walls, making sure to keep her appearance hidden; she was going to save that girl, even if it could (possibly) end her life—_Tsuna _(she resisted the urge to scoff) was involved with the mafia, and that was too dangerous seeing as she could end up with a bullet through her head, but if it meant saving two innocent lives, then she'd do it. Her chocolate eyes stared intently at the pink-haired girl's retreating back in resolve, but was caught off guard when the said girl had suddenly turned around.

Luckily, the action had caused Haru to quickly hide behind the wall out of reflex, and to say that it didn't scare her was an understatement (her heart beating wildly against the bones of her rib cage was proof of that); _she couldn't have seen her, could she? _She made sure that she was stealthily hidden from anyone, but the brunette saw the other girl's face—her emerald eyes were knowing, as if she had known something was off. Haru gulped; she could _not _let her cover be blown. She waited a few moments before she heard the front door click shut, and when she did, she let out a sigh, relaxing against the wall.

But her rest did not last long, however, as she had straightened up and clenched her hands at her sides, her chocolate eyes burning with undying determination. Head whipping to the direction of Tsuna's window, she growled.

"I'll save Reborn-chan and that poor girl from Tsuna's evil clutches!"

* * *

><p>Once she was at the open doorway of Tsuna's room (which was clean and tidy, the total opposite of when she had visited last time), Sakura smiled at the brown-haired boy, who greeted her back with a smile of his own. Patting the empty space next to him, he beckoned her to come inside his room—Yamamoto had already claimed the seat across from him and was now smiling like he usually did, while Gokudera was doing his usual thing, occupying the spot to Tsuna's left (she inwardly scoffed; <em>there was no doubt he was secretly wishing for her to just leave and never come back<em>).

She scanned the room, her emerald eyes stopping at the somewhat hilarious sight of the previous baby, sitting on a small, fancy-looking chair as he sipped his tea with crossed legs; she inwardly pursed her lips—he stood out amongst the modern furniture, with his comfy-looking chair that was probably made out of some rare species of leather or something like that. The baby acknowledge her presence with the sharp nod of his head, his cup of steaming coffee in his hands.

"Make yourself at home," he stated before taking a sip of his drink; she politely obliged, taking the lone seat to Tsuna's right as she lowered her bag (it was only then she noticed how light her bag was, as if something were missing though she couldn't place her finger on it) to her side, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her lap. From the seat across her, she noticed Gokudera's sharp eyes glancing at her direction for a few moments before looking away, his ever-so-present scowl adorning his handsome face.

She inwardly growled—to be truthful, she really didn't know how their could've-been-friendship turned out to be such a disastrous and mutual dislike towards each other; it had all started with a simple and accidental bump, and she even apologized. But he just _had _to go on and make a total ass of himself, and, well, she just couldn't help herself; she disliked arrogant people, and he just added to her dislike—and as the days passed, she received more and more glares, scowls, and insults from him. Whenever she'd help Tsuna with something, such as homework, she'd receive a glare and be pushed aside by the bomber, being told that "she was doing it completely wrong."

Then the glares just happen for no apparent reason; first, she'd just be walking alongside Tsuna on her way to class and he'd meet up with them half-way—then he'd send her a swift and discreet look of annoyance from him before he put on a smile and chat to the brunette. In the end, she was just irritated by him—she knew they would've made great friends (that is, if he didn't scowl so much, or wasn't in the mafia, or, to put it short, if he was someone else) at one point, but...she inwardly shook her head; she had a feeling they would never be friends as long as they lived.

"Thanks for coming, Gokudera-kun; it helps a lot that you're smart!" _**I bet I'm smarter that hot-headed jerk! **_She watched quietly as Tsuna grinned at the silver-haired boy, but before he could respond, Yamamoto let out a small, hearty laugh, "Who'd have thought?" She immediately covered a snort with a cough at the look on Gokudera's face.

The said boy growled (she swore she could see his ears turning red under all that silver hair of his), "Shut up!" Yamamoto just laughed once more before focusing on the paper in front of him, causing the silver-haired boy to narrow his eyes at him, "Oi, don't ignore me, baseball idiot!"

_It was funny how he argued about the smallest things_—at this, she let out a small laugh, causing the three males (excluding the baby, who was watching from the sidelines in amusement) to turn their attention to the pinkette. She was unaware of all the eyes on her, as she continued to laugh to herself while Yamamoto joined in shortly afterwards; she knew Tsuna was probably smiling (he probably realized the sheer ridiculousness of their antics) while Gokudera was probably scowling as usual—but something in the air shifted, and suddenly, Gokudera's irritated voice pierced through their laughs, "What're you laughing at, _bill-board brow_?" She stopped laughing.

_Screw being equals_—_this kid just insulted her forehead. _(She desperately tried to push away images of a crying girl surrounded by the evil and teasing faces of others.)

Her facial expression immediately changed and her smile dropped into a frown (she heard Tsuna stutter in disapproval, and so did Yamamoto, but she wanted to teach him a lesson in life that teasing would always lead to punches and kicks); her eyes, which were so full of mirth and amusement just moments ago suddenly narrowed into slits as she felt her upper lip curl into an intimidating (or what she _hoped_ looked intimidating) snarl, "What'd you call me, punk?" How _dare _he insult her! The dynamite expert placed his palms on the desk and leaned forward as if to provoke her, his form towering over her while his eyes glared at her with irritation and annoyance. She inwardly growled; who the _heck _did this punk think he is?

After a few more moments, she figured Gokudera wasn't going to sit back down. _So—a stare-down, then._ Sakura Haruno _never _backed down from anything—her master trained her better than that. With her stubborn nature showing, she immediately copied his stance (she choosing to slam her hands on the table) and the two teens were now locked in an intense staring contest—though, with Sakura and her cotton candy-colored hair and soft features, it looked sort of hilarious. Through the corner of her eyes, Tsuna watched the stare-down with fearful and nervous eyes, glancing back to the baby once in a while as if to call for help; Yamamoto, on the other hand, looked completely ecstatic, "Haha, that looks like a fun game! I'm challenging the winner!"

If she wasn't so freaking pissed right now, she would've let out a laugh at how clueless he was—of course, Tsuna gave the taller boy a horrified look from across the table, "Y-Yamamoto!" The brunette tried to calm them down with panicked murmurs of distractions, "Ah, Sakura-chan, Gokudera-kun, why don't we start on homework?"

"Of course, boss!" She rose a suspicious eye brow when Gokudera immediately obliged and sat down—but not before sending a quick glare towards the pinkette who returned it by sticking out her tongue in a mocking, childish manner. Letting out a small, indignant huff, she turned her attention to the papers in front of her, glaring non-existent daggers that she hoped would burn through the wooden table. _Stupid jerk, stupid jerk. _Why did he have to be such a..._jerk?_ Her peace (_**peace? Ha!**_) did not last long, for the silver-haired boy's booming voice broke her train of thought, causing her to look up in curiosity and annoyance as to why he was creating such a commotion.

"I'm not going to let you fail, boss! Hayato Gokudera will help you become a strong, tenth generation boss!" _**DID HE HAVE TO BE SO FREAKING**_—

"Will you just be quiet? You're too loud, you idiot!" She couldn't help it—something inside her snapped, and she found herself with her lips twitched into a frown as she sent the boy a sharp look (she couldn't help but notice at how tense Tsuna looked and how he was glancing back and forth between her and Gokudera); the reaction she had elicited from him would've scared her to death if she was someone else. His gaze immediately snapped to her and his lips curled into a snarl as he once more leaned over the table to challenge her; _if it was a challenge he wanted, a challenge he's get! _And so, she copied his stance, a growl escaping her lips.

"Why you stupid little pink-haired witch—" _I certainly am NOT a witch!_

"Insulting my appearance and my intelligence will only prove how much of an _idiot _you are—" _**Yeah, you stupid baboon, SHANNARO!**_

"Oi, stop being so hypocritical, pinky—" _Hypocritical? Oh heck no..._

"Me? Hypocritical? That's absolutely _hilarious _coming from someone with _gray hair_—" _**Gray hair is for old people and guys who stress out a lot! GO DYE YOUR HAIR RED OR SOMETHING!**_

"It's _silver_! Why I outta..." Her emerald eyes shone fiercely, mentally taunting him; _what are you gonna do about it, huh? Hit a girl? Pathetic!_

She had chose to stay silent after that, instead choosing to glare at the boy in front of her; he had done the same, his stormy green eyes staring straight into her's without fear of any signs of backing down—the air in the room to become tense and dangerously silent, and no matter how much she wanted to get the stupid study session over with, she couldn't back down in front of Gokudera, when he had clearly insulted the thing she was most insecure about; she needed to show that she was capable of handling things herself. Her ears picked up the sounds of papers rustling, followed by Tsuna's desperate voice, "Hey, how do you do the first question? I'm kind of stumped..."

She watched in amazement as Gokudera's expression was wiped off, being replaced by a grin as he sat back down in his seat, gently taking the paper from Tsuna's shaking hands. Her eye twitched; _what the hell was his freaking problem? _Was he bi-polar or something? She seriously began to suspect he had an emotional disorder; as she sat back down in her seat, she closed her eyes to calm down—_one, two, three, four...just calm down, calm down, it's over now. _Once she was finished, she opened her eyes and relaxed, hearing the brunette relay the question out loud, "'If _x _is 14, _y _is 7, and _z _is 1, solve this problem: 2xz over 2yz.'" Before he had even finished his sentence, she was half-way done with solving the equation.

_2 times 14 times 1 equal 28. 2 times 7 times 1 equals 14; so 28 over 14 simplifies into_—

"The answer is 2." As soon as she heard the second voice speak out the same sentence as she did, her temper flared; her her head snapping up to glare at the boy that sat across her—he had done the same, his lips forming a snarl at both of them took their previous stance; insults were spewed, curses came flying out of the other's mouths, and amongst the furious exchange, she could hear Yamamoto laughing in content, Tsuna sighing while running a hand through his already messy hair, and Reborn's amused silence. She was oblivious to the fact that the said baby felt that the Tenth Generation Vongola Boss's family would be certainly interesting.

* * *

><p><em>"Why you stupid little pink-haired witch<em>—_"_

_What a cruel insult! _That house was definitely a bad environment for sweet, innocent babies like Reborn and innocent, pink-haired girls like—with a ghastly expression laced across her now-pale face, Haru sharply inhaled as she remembered the previous girl had _pink_ hair. _Were they abusing that poor girl in there? _Biting her lip, she glared at the window, half-hoping for Tsuna to feel it's deadliness and check outside, then immediately beg for Haru's forgiveness for having such an unhealthy and self-esteem-lowering environment. She was absolutely horrified and outraged; she could almost imagine Tsuna and his lackeys cornering Reborn and that poor, pink-haired girl as the two shake in fear.

_"R-Reborn-chan, I'm scared," the pink-haired girl said, cowering away from the tall, dark-haired boy's glare. The baby looked up and bit his lip, tears threatening to fall._

_"I am, too," he whimpered helplessly. As Tsuna, the silver-haired boy, and the tall dark-haired boy advanced towards them dangerously, they both looked up towards the Heavens and cried, "Someone, please help save us from this terrible place!"_

She quickly shook her head in denial; _No! I mustn't let that happen! Not to innocent people! _She was going to save them even if it cost her her life!Shooting one last glare at the window, she began to enact her plan; the place was pretty empty, and after she wrapped the bandana around her head to conceal her identity, she sneaked passed the gate, tip-toeing her way towards the front-door. She inwardly smirked; their defenses were low (if they actually had any defenses), and she could easily break in and save the two innocent people. She could imagine it now—Reborn would be smiling up at her in gratitude while she picked him up and hugged him, the other pink-haired girl thanking her and claiming to now be in debt to her—

"Ne, are you one of Tsuna's friends?"

_She was caught! _At the sound of a feminine voice, the brown-haired girl jumped in surprise and let out a small "Hahi!" as she spun on her heel to face a brown-haired woman, who had a friendly smile laced on her pretty features while carrying a bag of groceries. Sure enough, she looked friendly, and the smile seemed genuine but...she needed to be cautious—she could've been in league with that no-good _Tsuna. _Haru's expression was set in stone, staring at the older woman without fear, "No—I'm his enemy. I'm with Reborn-chan!"

For a moment, Haru thought the older woman was going to go crazy and bring out a shotgun or something like that, but the woman's reaction was the polar opposite—the woman beamed at the mention of Reborn's name, and exclaimed happily, "It's nice to see Reborn making more friends! Come in, come in!" _Wait_—what? With that, the woman guided a stumped Haru, who—after a few moments of hard thinking—smiled in determination as she entered the threshold, her fists at her sides; _don't worry Reborn-chan...I'll save both of you!_

* * *

><p><em>So, completely factor 16yz + 12y + 40z + 30...<em>Sakura bit her bottom lip concentration, her emerald eyes focused on the problem in front of her; _if I split the equation, it'll be (16yz + 12y) + (40z + 30), then, if I factor (16yz + 12y), it'll be 4y(4z + 3). Then, if I factor (40z + 30), it'll be 10(4z + 3). Because of the like term, I can combine them, and it will become (4y + 10)(4z + 3). If I factor it one last time, the answer would be...2(2y + 5)(4z + 3)! __**I STILL GOT IT IN ME, OH YEAH! **_With a satisfied smile gracing her lips, she jotted down the answer for question 24 at the bottom of her work, circling the correct answer before switching her gaze onto the next question. _Still combining like-terms..._

"Sakura-chan, you work fast!" Stopping her writing, she lifted her head up from her work to glance at a gaping Tsuna, who stared at her with his brown eyes wide with surprise and awe; her pride welled up, but she shook it off—she then laughed and waved her hand dismissively, "Well, it's all a matter of splitting the equation combining like-terms. You see?" _And as for the reason I work fast, its because I write quickly_—_but I still have great hand writing!_

As she handed him her paper, and Yamamoto laughed in agreement, "Yeah, once I read the book, it got less difficult!" She nodded, watching as Tsuna's eyes brightened once more—but her temper flared slightly when she stole a glance at the silver-haired bomber; the look on his face told her that he didn't believe that they could get the answers right (_**tch, stupid underestimating punk! I should give him a good bonk or two over the head to open his eyes!**_), and her beliefs were confirmed when he sent her and the baseball player irritated glances and took both of their papers in his hands, stormy green eyes skimming the sheet.

_Oh, he so in for a rude awakening._ The pinkette sent a small glare as she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, just waiting for the boy to swallow his pride and admit he was right—it came soon after. The satisfaction that was welling up inside her as soon as she saw his eyes widen and the look of resignation as he handed Yamamoto's paper made her smirk, snatching her paper from out of his hands in triumph—oh, the look on his face made her want to laugh at him so badly! She stuck her tongue out at him (which, of course, made him bristle but she couldn't help it) and turned her attention to the next problem before he could return her action. An audible 'hmph' was heard from the boy across her, and she smirked softly to herself.

"Do you guys know how to do question 7? I'm sort of stumped." _Question 7! _She pursed her lips at the mention of such a...non-mathematical questions—_come on, how does proving that a pile of papers would stay together if it fell 3 meters off of the ground relate to anything about algebraic equations, radicals, and polynomials? _It had absolutely nothing do do with math—that equation was, to put it shortly, a waste of time; and, to be honest, she did what anything person would do when faced with an equation that didn't seem so easy: skip it and return to it later. A guffaw pierced the air, and her eyes traveled to a laughing—albeit, _smug_—Gokudera, who's shoulders shook, "Hahaha, Yamamoto, you're such an idiot!"

_How insensitive of him! _Just because Yamamoto couldn't solve the equation (heck, even _she _couldn't solve that damn equation; she wanted to take that equation and shove it down her teacher's throat) didn't mean Gokudera had the right to demean him about it—she bet her life he didn't even know how to solve the teeth ground together, her knuckles clenching under the table as she sent the still-laughing boy a sharp glance that would've killed him if looks could really kill; he didn't seem to notice, though, as he turned to the brown-haired boy next to him with a big grin, "Boss, you agree with me, right?"

By the looks of Tsuna's face, no, he didn't agree with him one bit. She watched the scene unfold in front of her as Tsuna's shoulders sagged, muttering with an ashamed voice that he didn't even understand _half _of the questions that were asked—this had sent her temper erupting, and Gokudera's foolish apologies didn't even help with it; and so, not wanting the situation to escalate (hurt feelings never ended nicely, and she was doing Gokudera a favor; he was embarrassing himself and she was going to prevent that from happening any further), she did the thing she never thought she'd do.

She leaned over the table, pulled her fist back, and gave him a good bonk over his head, sending him face-first into Tsuna's blue polyester carpet.

And while she watched his twitching and groaning form cradle the place where she had hit him, she placed her hands on her hips and stood up, her brow furrowing in frustration and disapproval, "You're such an insensitive jerk!" To say that she didn't feel good was a lie—for nearly a week, she had never once did anything to show her mutual dislike (besides her glaring and calling him 'jerk' a few times, but that was limited), and as soon as her fist came in contact with his silky strands of silver, she thought it would finally shut his mouth up for good. She inwardly screeched; _**serves you right! **_

"Sakura, you sure can pack a punch!" While the brunette watched from the sides with his eyes wide with fear, she glanced at Yamamoto through the corner of her eyes and smiled smugly to herself, her chest puffing out with pride; _**YOU DAMN RIGHT I DO, SHANNARO! **_She wasn't the Slug Princess's apprentice for nothing.

"W-What...just what the _hell _was that for_?_" With her emerald eyes watching down at the silver-haired boy intently, she meticulously analyzed him as he lifted himself off of the ground weakly (_geeze, _didn't even hit him that hard—if she had used her chakra, he wouldn't even be moving, much less breathing) before he rose to his feet, his stormy green eyes blazing with fury; she would've been scared when his hands flew to the back of his pockets and brought out a handful of dynamite, but she figured he wouldn't be so rude as to flow them up in Tsuna's house.

The said boy switched his wide-eyed gaze back and forth between her and the silver-haired boy, and Yamamoto seemed to brush off Gokudera's infuriated expression with the wave of his hand and a light laugh, "Oh, you and your fireworks." _Yeah, worthless sticks of sparklers and smoke!_

"Shut up!" She heard the silver-haired boy bark, sending a short glare towards the smiling boy before focusing all his hate and fury at the pink-haired girl; she stood, an eye brow raised—she knew she was pushing him to his limits, but he was beginning to make her want to pull her hair off of her scalp and _that was never ever a good thing for her_. Gokudera copied her stance and held the dynamite at his side threateningly, a twitching scowl plastered on his face, "I'm gonna make you wish you were never born, _bill-board brow_." _**STUPID NICKNAME...**_(she'd never admit it, but every time he used that name, it hurt her.)

_"Sakura has a bill-board brow, Sakura has a bill-board brow! It's so huge, and so ugly!" _

_"N-No, i-it's n-n-not_—_"_

_"Bill-board brow, bill-board brow, bill-board brow!"_

_"S-Stop, please! I don't have a big forehead!"_

_"Bill-board brow, bill-board brow, bill-board brow, bill-board brow, BILL-BOARD BROW_—_"_

She didn't even put away her homework; all she did was stuff her papers in her math text book and grab her bag, slinging it over her shoulder carelessly. She just couldn't take it anymore—that nickname had too much painful memories that she had tried to store away, but he just kept using it and she remembered how lonely she was, how she didn't have any friends, she remembered how painful it was going to school each day with the knowledge that she'd end up with scratches, bruises, and wet tears whenever she came home. She remembered how people teased her for her big forehead, and they would use the exact same thing he had called her.

And as she brushed past Gokudera with her head bowed because she knew that if she saw his smirking and smug face (well, she _assumed_ he was) that she'd let the waterworks out (there was no way in hell she was going to let him have the satisfaction of seeing her break), she ignored Tsuna's concerned yells, ignored Yamamoto's questioning tone, ignored Gokudera's small 'hmph' and walked out the door without looking back. _She was just so frustrated_—and she was just so weak for letting that one single comment get to her. It was pathetic, she knew, to act like a spoiled child on a tantrum and storm out, but _dammit, _she just couldn't take it anymore.

_It hurt so much to re-live her childhood memories_—it hurt so much that her eyes began to sting, and once she was at the bottom of the stairs, she paused, staring at the floor with her hands clenched at her sides. They were probably laughing at how immature she was acting right now, talking about how she stormed out with a pout and had probably went home crying to her mommy; her shoulders trembled, and she could practically feel her tears beginning to overflow at the corners of her eyes. _Don't blink, don't blink, whatever you do, don't blink or else!_

"Hello!" The sudden greeting made her head snap up from its teary-eyed gaze on the floor and onto the—_when did that girl get there? _Low and behold, a girl stood a few feet away, a tray of snacks and drinks in her hands as she stood with a small smile on her face (and she did notice the weird purple bandana on her head), but the smile suddenly disappeared—she inwardly laughed bitterly; _probably because of the tears. I'm so pathetic..._the other girl took a step closer, concern lacing her pretty features as she tilted her head to the side, "Are you alright? You look you're about to cry...why those no-good boys, I should go up there and give them a piece of my mind!"

_Oh, crud_; Sakura hastily rubbed away the tears with the back of her hand in an attempt to look okay, and gave the (_weird_) girl a forced smile, "Yeah, I'm fine...I just had something in my eyes, of course!" Before the other girl could protest, she bowed in apology for wasting her time and made her way towards to door where she slipped into her shoes and walked out; as soon as the door was shut behind her, she used the collar of her shirt to wipe away her wet tears—some had escaped and had rolled down her chin (which, she had to say, was irritating and itchy at the same time), and she didn't want to look like she had been crying when she walked home.

She needed to get her mind off of things (she definitely did _not _want to think about what had happened earlier or the memories it had brought), and so she decided to study for that upcoming test. And as she walked away from Tsuna's house, she opened her bag to put away her math text book and homework and bring out her language arts book...only to find out that the latter was not in there. She paused for a moment, her brow furrowing as she sniffed (damn, her nose was still runny), and once again searched her bag for the small paper-back book. It was only on her third search that she began to panic; _where was it? _She was sure she didn't bring it to Tsuna's house, and she didn't recall leaving it at home, unless...

She let out a groan, running a hand through her pink locks when she remembered where she had left it; unfortunately, she had left it back at _school, _in her _desk_. _Crap. _If she weren't so stubborn, she would've shrugged with a small laugh and be on her merry way towards home—but she _was _stubborn, and she _wouldn't _just shrug with a small laugh and be on her merry way towards home; she was going to go to school and get her damn book because Sakura Haruno _never _backed down (especially if backing down meant failing that test; she wouldn't let that happen, not in a million years). She needed that book, and if it meant trespassing on school grounds...then so be it.

(She secretly hoped that a kind teacher would be generous enough to let her in.) The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky a beautiful orange hue, and she knew she didn't have much time left; so, with her chakra-enhanced feet, she disappeared—if people would squint their eyes hard enough at the right time, they would've saw a pink blur jumping over the rooftops and in the direction of Namimori Middle School.

* * *

><p>When she was just starting at Namimori at the fresh age of 13 (and with her hair short and cut; she looked like a tomboy), she was not informed about the cons of choosing to go there. Her first choice, of course, was Midori Middle School—one of the toughest schools to get into, an elite school—but the intuition fee was too expensive, and even if she whined and cried like a spoiled and selfish brat to her mom, the older woman had not complied to her wishes. In the end, she was practically forced to go to her <em>last <em>choice for middle school: Namimori Middle School. Sure, the school was near her house (but so was Midori), but she just didn't like the students that went there.

At first, she felt that no one there was (for lack of better term) smart enough for her to compete with, felt that the lessons would be easy and that she would just fly through her middle school years with A+'s and honorable mentions. That was the reason of why she didn't want to go; Namimori wasn't a challenge for her. If she wanted a challenge, she could've gone to Midori, with a 'hard-as-hell' entrance exam, strict teachers, and lots and lots of homework. When she went to her new school, she expected to be called freak, to be ridiculed, to come home crying.

(Of course, her expectations were met.)

She didn't expect the school to harbor murderers. If her first day of school was bad, then her second day of school was hell—_because she had the privilege of seeing the school's Disciplinary Committee's president while he had been doing his job. _At the time, he was an upperclassman, being a 15-year-old and in his second year of middle school; she had seen him around a few times, and had been warned beforehand about his violent ways by another upperclassman, but she had shook it off, thinking they were just over-reacting and over-exaggerating and that he was probably just some idiot walking around with his nose too high for his own good. She was completely wrong, though.

That day, she had been running an errand for her teacher—who, stupidly, left his brief case filled with that day's lesson plan in the teacher's lounge, and she, wanting to leave the classroom since she had finished all of her work before everyone else, volunteered to do so—and had seen something at the corner of her eye as she passed a window. Of course, with her inquisitive nature, she paused and chose to see what was happening; until this very day, she had regretted ever letting her curiosity get the best of her. She regretted ever coming to school that day. What she had seen had been permanently carved into the walls of her mind, making her shiver in fear at the sheer thought of it.

He was there, the President, standing in the middle of a circle adults that had been trespassing during school hours, and had been loitering around; in their big and calloused hands were spray cans of all colors, ranging from orange to neon green, with faces that were set into smirks and scowls. The President was simply standing there, his hands at his sides and his purple-gray eyes staring unemotionally at each and every face that surrounded him—he made no move to run or attack even when one of them had taken out a pocket knife.

Even if she didn't know the boy, she did not deny the fact that she was worried for him—and so, with high hopes that the teachers (or better yet, the police) would get there in time to save him, she was about to run off when the one with the pocket knife had charged. At that moment, her heart had seemed to stop, and that the only thing she could do was watch in horror and wait as the shower of blood began. To her surprise, there was no blood. To her horror, the thug had simply dropped to the floor. Only then did the blood shower begin.

The thug was cradling his injured stomach—which had a large gash slashed across—blood pooling from the corner of his mouth; she had to tear away her gaze from him or else she would throw up her lunch, and as she dropped the briefcase in horror, the lesson plans flying around her in a rain of papers and folders, she noticed that out of all their horrified and scared faces, his was the only one that was smirking, his eyes clouded with bloodlust while his hand slowly raised, revealing a silver tonfa that was covered in blood. At that point, her mind began to race with thoughts and she began to wonder if the rumors and warnings that everyone had been telling her really true—her fears were confirmed when he quickly began to beat down each and every single thug.

With each and every hit he had gave, his eyes shown more and more bloodlust, becoming wild and crazed whilst his smirk stayed the same throughout the whole time. The way he moved was graceful, with inhuman speed and hits so quick she couldn't even see them, only a mere blur—and if she didn't know any better, she would've been amazed at how he looked like he was dancing, with smooth movements and quick reflexes, but she knew that those were the moves of a skilled murderer. The inhuman speed had caught the thugs off-guard, the quick hits had served punches and kicks to vital areas and had probably ruptured organs, the smooth movements and the quick reflexes and the blurred movements; they were used to _kill_ people.

They were all incapacitated (or worse, dead) in the next few moments—for some reason, her feet weren't listening to her brain, which was at the time screaming for her to run far away and to never come back, to run away from the boy with the tonfa, but she still stood, frozen in fear as she watched him stand in the middle of the circle of probably-dead men. When she didn't think it could get any worse, he slowly lifted his head, and much to her chagrin, met her wide, emerald-eyed gaze; her breath hitched then, and all she could do was stare back in horrified fascination while he did the same, his purple-gray gaze unemotional until the edges of his lips twitched up into a dangerous smirk, his eyes narrowing at her now-trembling form.

Her legs had given out under her, and the blood had finally began to flow back to her face as she let out a breath she had been holding; luckily, when she fell to the ground, her view of him was hidden by the wall—he had fatally injured all of those men, and he looked like he enjoyed it. He had stood in the middle of a circle of groaning men—who were covered in their own blood, littered with bruises and cuts and gashes and injuries—with a satisfied smirk, his tonfa retracting while a group of his followers ran towards him with mops and buckets of water in their hands. And with the thought of getting back to class as soon as possible, she had shakily grabbed all the papers that were on the floor and placed them back into the brown leather briefcase; afterwards, she all but ran down the hall and to the stairs, where she had nearly tripped over one of the steps.

Everyday after that, she would tremble and freeze at the mere sight of the boy, the images of the bloody men on the ground and the crazed look in his eyes replaying over and over again for her to remember—sure, it was irrational to fear another person, but after what she had seen, it was pretty logical. She feared for her life; she feared that because she had witnessed such a crime, she would die so that the secret wouldn't get out. And even if it didn't seem like he cared one bit (he seemed to have forgotten about the whole thing and chose to do whatever he wanted like he always did), she was still afraid. The bloodlust in his eyes was just so..._intense._

Luckily for her, she was so focused on getting that book that she had forgotten about her Hibariphobia (and was oblivious to the fact that there was a chance he could still be on school grounds), and was now staring with a furrowed brow at the school's locked main door—huffing, she rubbed the back of her head and turned around, leaning on the glass doors; _how could she get her book now? _There were no cars in the nearby parking lot, so all of the teachers had probably gone and went home to their happy families while she waited for the Heaven's to open up and give her the answer; she bit her lip in concentration, thinking of places for her to sneak in.

The front door was a bust, and even though she had a few extra bobby pins in her bag, she didn't know how to pick locks. And the windows—_the windows! _Her mood brightened considerably as she pushed herself off of the doors and bolted to the side, searching for her homeroom's window; hopefully, the teacher had forgotten to lock them, and then she could sneak in and grab it—_no harm, no foul. _No one got hurt, no school property was damaged, and she would be the stealthiest she could be so that it would seem as if she was never there in the first place.

After leaving her bag somewhere safe (as much as she loved it, it would hinder her), she scaled the wall with chakra-enhanced feet, her mind solely concentrated on getting to her destination. She could practically feel the book in her hands, could practically smell the victory—and when she arrived, she couldn't help but feel satisfied with the fact that she had completed such a feat; _**SHANNARO! I'LL GET THAT BOOK AND STUDY MY ASS OFF! **_The moment of victory had arrived, and she couldn't stop the smile on her face from forming as she pushed the window to open it—

Only for her to nearly push herself off of the building (she hated that little moment where her heart stopped beating for a second because she thought she was going to fall for her death) _because it was freaking locked. _She let out a groan and resisted the urge to scream as she regained her balance, a hand over her quickly beating heart; the window was out—peering through, she cupped her eyes so that she could see through the glass better. She scanned the room for her desk, and she found it, untouched and empty as if it were taunting her to smash the glass and sign herself a death wish. _SHE NEEDED TO GET THAT BOOK FAST AND THEN RUN THE HELL OUT OF THERE._

"Crud," she muttered to herself, biting the insides of her cheeks as she sat herself on the wall. Her hair hanging behind her, lightly swaying in the wind—she knew that people could probably see her (who _wouldn't _see a girl defying gravity? It's pretty hard to miss...) but she was too busy devising a plan to sneak into school. She could dig her way into the main hall...but then that'd be too particularly messy, and she didn't want to clean up after the mess; she needed to be _suave, _stealthy and sneaky like the ninja she was trained to be. She could break the windows (which she was so tempted to do so since the windows were only _inches _away), but then that's be messy, also. Or, she could always take the easy way and wait until tomorrow to be a day behind in studying.

_**HELL NO! I'M NOT LETTING THAT HAPPEN! **_That plan was obsolete, so she needed to think of something else. The roof had a door—her eyes widened in realization as she bolted up-right, craning her neck upwards to stare at the fenced roof up above. _Using the roof was absolutely genius! _There was no lock on the door since the custodians would make sure there were no students or teachers there before going home, and no one could go up there anyway because it was nearly 4 floors high with a fence securing its perimeter. It was so fool-proof; all she needed to do was scale the wall, jump over the fence, walk through the door (with an aura of pride, of course), make her way to her book and take it then get her butt out of there.

And so, with her lips twitched up into a determined smirk, she scaled the wall with her chakra-laded feet quickly and swiftly, and in mere seconds she was near the top. Once she was near the fence, she pushed herself upwards as if to propel herself forward and jumped over the wires; she flew through the air,a foot outstretched to land—_what the hell? _Before she could land, however, she spotted a blob of black and white on the floor, and as she came closer, she realized it was _a person_. She had tried to stop herself (_crap, don't panic, don't panic!_) but it was too late—the only thing she could do was look like an idiot as she tried to _swim _and flail in her fall. Which, amazingly, had saved the person below from being crushed by her impact.

While she was looking like an idiot, her movement made her shift to the right by a few inches, but unfortunately for her, it meant landing harshly on the ground and not on her feet like she had planned to. With her body aching from the landing, she groaned; _that freaking hurt like hell! _And who the hell would be staying up on the roof at such a late hour (besides her, of course)? Shouldn't everyone be home right now? She was sure that the custodian wouldn't want to stay out so late just to watch the sky turn to twilight (and if that person wasn't there, she would've stayed a few moments to watch the sky turn beautiful shades of pink and orange and blue), and that she should've been the only person there.

She opened her eyes, only to be met with blurry surroundings and the blob on the ground still a blob that was unrecognizable—but after a few more moments of rubbing her eyes, her vision finally cleared...only for her to choke on her spit, a strangled scream escaping her mouth but she quickly covered it with her hands. _Oh god she was so freaking dead_—because right in front of her was _Kyoya _freaking _Hibari_, sleeping peacefully with his arms behind the back of his head as a make-shift pillow (and she was oh-so greatly disturbed at the fact that he could actually look so _serene _while he slept); she felt her legs trembling, her heart thumping wildly, her blood running cold and her instincts telling her to get the hell out of there and forget about the book.

And, unfortunately for her, he had chosen the moment to open his eyes and let out a yawn, a hand going to his mouth to stifle it—now, if she were someone else not from Namimori (not from Japan, better yet) and was ignorant to his reputation as the school's Disciplinary Committee President, she'd think this scene would be cute, with a (she was too scared to actually admit it) handsome boy just waking up to the world. But _no, _she wasn't from a foreign country, and she had seen how he battled. She immediately felt her whole body freeze when his gaze snapped to her; _crap, crap, crap, she was going to die and this death would certainly be unpreventable. _

Even if she heard his voice before, she couldn't help but notice how his voice was velvety, deep, and how it sent shivers down her spine for all the wrong reasons, "I don't like it when herbivores interrupt my naps," he yawned once more as he stood up, dusting himself off, and she couldn't even find the strength to look away as he turned his head to her oh-so painfully slow—the purple-gray eyes flashed dangerously before her as his hand twitched, something metallic appearing in his hands and the only thing that she could think of was that the metal would be stained with (her) blood in the next few moments, "Not only that, but you're trespassing school grounds during non-instructional hours. Who are you?"

It took her a few seconds before she finally registered what he had said (she had been staring up at him with wide eyes in the mean time as he stared down at her with unreadable eyes), and she gulped audibly before finding her voice in the deep recesses of her throat; her name had come out hoarse and barely above whisper, "S-Sakura Haruno, Hibari-san...!" _And her death wish was signed in blood and tears. _Fear made her do insane things, and giving her name out to a potential murderer was one of them. He looked away for a moment, and she had took the few seconds to push herself off of the ground; the realization had hit her like a ton of bricks that Tsuna wasn't there to save her like he usually did by pulling her away. (She _really _needed to stop depending on him to keep saving her.)

The next thing she did was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done—she ran. It was logical for her to, since she was following her instincts and all, but unfortunately for her, it looked like as if she were going to do something that would 'taint the grounds of Namimori Middle School;' in the beginning, all she was really doing was getting in and grabbing her book then leave, right? But what she didn't have planned was for the President of Namimori Middle School Disciplinary Committee to chase her down until she was punished for waking him up and trespassing. She inwardly screamed her ass off as she made a run for the door; _OH MY GOD, IF I DON'T GET KILLED IT WOULD BE AN ABSOLUTE MIRACLE._

"Well..._do you mind if I devour you?_"

Something whizzed in the air and by pure instinct, she ducked and barely missed the kick that was sent for her temple. With her heart beating 100 miles per hour, she looked over her shoulder to see the prefect with a tonfa out and ready to strike her. She didn't miss the narrowed gaze that was sent her way—ultimately, that was the one thing that had sent her running once more, and as she kicked open the door, narrowly dodging a few strikes from his tonfa along the way, she concluded that when his eyes narrowed into that, it never meant happy endings and rainbows and ponies.

She hadn't even made it past the first step of the stairs without having to dodge a wave of kicks, punches, and tonfa-swings; if Tsunade had seen her, she would've been yelling her ass off for her to do something because she had trained her to do more than just dodging, and would be barking at her to give him a good punch or two in the face. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't fast enough, and he wasn't slow enough for it to be a fair fight. She bit her lip, brow furrowed as she dodged another kick; _how the hell was she supposed to get out of this now? _He was blocking the way and—

"Your reflex skills are good," he stated as she blocked a punch with her forearm, his velvety voice piercing the tense air; the comment had made her eye brows fly up to her hairline in surprise, but the look was quickly replaced by horror as his free hand (the hand holding the tonfa, she realized) swiped at her abdomen, _"But not good enough."_

With that, the end of the tonfa dug itself into her stomach—she sharply inhaled, eyes cringing at the sudden hit that was probably meant to knock her out; the action had her doubling over from the pain (_it hurt too much, she couldn't even see correctly and she was beginning to feel a little light-headed_) and backing into the stair's railings. _The stairs..._she looked over her shoulder as she tried to not double over again, analyzing the flights of stairs before turning back to Hibari, who charged at her with inhuman speed (he was so fast she couldn't even see him clearly). _This better work_—_or at the least by me some time. _Before he could land a hit, she leaned backwards, closing her eyes.

And promptly fell over the railings—before she could hit the stairs, she landed not-so-gracefully on her feet and chakra-ran out of there (hopefully the chakra-boosted run would get him off of her trail) and onto the second floor, where she practically jumped through the exit.

Even when she felt safe, she kept the chakra at her feet just in case (so that she could bolt out of there and keep her head) and made her way to her classroom; a bead of cold sweat ran rolled down the back of her neck and her stomach erupted in an unsettling feeling. _It wasn't over. _As soon as that thought came, she sensed something come at her with a speed she couldn't comprehend—the next moment, she found herself thrown into the door so hard that it was practically ripped off of its hinges. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, "Nngh..."

"Wow," he murmured, the dangerous smirk lacing his lips once more as he raised his tonfa, "I'm impressed at how long you lasted—but I'm afraid I'll have to end this soon. I still have some work to do before the day ends."

If the situation weren't so serious, she would've laughed at how ridiculous that sounded seeing as he was sleeping soundly no more than 8 minutes ago; leaning on the door for support (_those bruises were going to hurt in the morning, she knew_), she did her best to ignore her throbbing back and ducked when his arm swiped the place where her head used to be—a few seconds after, the door broke in half, split clean, and she had wasted no time in rushing inside. She ran over desks, nearly tripping on her way, but a leg had kicked her off balance, sending her tumbling to the side and into a row of desks and her hand immediately flew up to the place where she was hit. She cringed; _damn it..._

"I-I just want my book!" _Good god_, she sounded so pathetic (and her position on the floor in the middle of a circle of fallen desks did not do anything to help), but when she saw how his eyes narrowed, she immediately regretted what she had said; he was just a few meters away, standing tall with his shoulders back on one of the desks (which, ironically, was _her _desk), and she looked up at him with calculating emerald eyes. She needed to get him away from there and as far away from her as possible, something that could buy her enough time for her to grab the book and make her way to the rooftop—the pinkette tensed when he began to charge at her, his tonfa shining from the dimming light of the sunset, and she knew that she needed to move quickly or else she was a goner.

And so, she grabbed the closest thing near her (it was cold to the touch, and a bit heavy) and hurled it towards his moving form with a chakra-laced hand. Followed by it was a trail of papers that gently swayed in mid-air; the desk flew at him at a speed that could rival his, but unfortunately for her, he had moved out of the way in time and the desk flew past him, landing on another row of desks. She watched as he looked over his shoulder briefly before turning back to her with that _smirk _lacing his lips and—_it looked so dangerously seductive and _(oh my god, was she really thinking about that at a time like now?) _so dangerously ominous, _and she decided that if she wanted to live to see another day, _then she needed to fight back like her master trained her to do. _

But then she remembered she didn't have her gloves with her (they were still in her bag, which was hidden no-too-skillfully in the tree next to the side of the building she had scaled), and she inwardly growled; _screw it! _He charged at her again, and this time, she swallowed her fear (the blood thumping against her ears, the adrenaline rushing through her veins, the anticipating moment where she faced her [irrational] fear head on), shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again—she stared him straight in the eyes with her emerald orbs blazing in fiery determination; _**I WON'T DIE HERE TODAY, NOT NOW! **_His kick was coming fast, but she saw it and had raised her arm to block it from hitting the side of her head. _A chance!_

Before he could react, she grabbed his ankle with chakra-laced palms (and she made sure it wasn't enough to crush every little bone in his leg) and threw him to the opposite side of the room, towards the chalk-board and teacher's desk. The look on his face made her chest puff up in pride, and she wasted no time in bolting to her fallen desk to grab her book.

She inwardly sighed, tucking the book in the pockets of her vest so that it wouldn't be lost; _now it was time to get the hell out of there. _Something was coming at her again, and once again, she wasn't fast enough (she mentally noted to ask Tsunade how to move quickly and as fast as him; hopefully she'll teach her) and she was sent flying towards the front of the class; her back made contact with the chalk board, sliding down to the floor. _That hurt more than the other hits had_—she had to get out.

She jumped to her feet and ignored the stinging pain on her back, and with her strength, she lifted the teacher's desk above her head with both of her hands (_sorry, teacher, but your lesson plan for tomorrow will be cleaning up the room_), took a deep breath—_prepare to run the hell out of there_—and threw it straight at the dark-haired prefect, her eyes blazing in resolve once more, _"SHANNARO!"_

While he was distracted with the on-coming large piece of wood and her small form being blocked by the hundreds of test results and homework flying all around the room, she ran out of the door with chakra-enhanced feet and nearly flew through the empty halls, hearing the desk's crash echo through out the school.

He was probably pissed off as hell, and she knew she would pay for her crimes against the Namimori Disciplinary Committee, but she was going to make her master proud and get out of there with her head held high and her fists at her sides, like her master had done when she face Madara Uchiha. She knew he was probably unscathed, and was probably chasing her down—once she was at the stair well, she pushed herself off of the ground and onto the wall, scaling the walls until she reached the top floor.

"You've cluttered up one of the classrooms, and I'm really upset at the moment. You will be punished..." _Holy crap_—stopping at the door, she looked behind her to see if he was coming...but then ducked with wide eyes as a tonfa came at her at a blinding speed; the fire extinguisher that was behind her was cut open and the door way was filled with white smoke. Through the smoke-filled small space (she could easily make her escape since the door to the roof was behind her), she saw his purple-gray-eyed gaze and the shine of the metal in his hands, and when the smoke cleared, his smirk nowhere to be seen and—_he just looked _really_ angry. _"I'll bite you to death."

That was all it took for her to jump to her feet and chakra-run towards the fence—she didn't want to look behind her because she _knew _he was on her tail, and she _knew _he was going to do some pretty bad damage, and so, with her heart beating wildly and her book in her pockets, she climbed the fence as quickly as she could without getting her foot stuck on it and threw herself over, skidding down the side of the building while concentrating chakra to her feet for a safe and quick trip down.

She gulped as she passed the third floor; _holy crap, holy crap, she had just taken on Kyoya Hibari and had made it out alive and holy crap, holy crap_—she passed the second floor, then the first floor, until she reached the ground. _She was alive she was alive she was alive_—she dashed towards the tree and grabbed her bag (she had to rip the strap in order to get it to untangle with the branch it hung off of), all but jumping over the wall that separated the sidewalk from the school.

And everything after that had been a whole blur—she ran as fast as she could away from the school, away from the President, not bothering to look back because she knew if she did then she'd have to see his angry face that was directed at her (she assumed he was angry; she had just threw two desks at him). It was already late, the sun had already set and the sky was midnight blue, stars glistening in the sky, but she didn't stop just to view the scenery above her, just kept running and running.

Her whole body was aching from each hit she had taken and—she remembered bumping into Gokudera and Yamamoto (the former seemed a bit awkward-looking after seeing her and the latter was smiling as usual) but she didn't speak to them, she just stared at them for a few moments before running off again. She ran and ran until she got home—luckily her mom was still working, and would not be questioning her pale face or her heaving form. As soon as she closed the front door, she made her way to her room without another word.

That night, she had cried herself to sleep. (She was oblivious to the smirk he had sent her while he watched her retreating form disappear in the distance.)

* * *

><p><em>Hello, :D school's been tough (man, I didn't even know I was in Honor's English) and I've been getting homework each and every night. Buuuut, I just had to suck it up and do it or else down goes my grade (noooo I must get those A's for redemption), and I've been slowly progressing with this chapter each and every day until I decided, "Hey, three day weekend—let's do this!" <em>

_By the way, if anyone listens to J-pop, can you recommend me some songs? I've been getting into that genre in the last few weeks after discovering KHR had character songs (OH LAWDY, HIBARI'S VOICE AND SONGS ARE JUST ASDFGHJKKDFKS), so yeah, :D Keep on the look-out for the next chapter! _

(I do not own Naruto or KHR—I simply make fanfiction for them.)


	6. bridges over roaring rivers

There was nothing up ahead—no being whatsoever, except the houses and concrete that surrounded her rigid form. Emerald eyes darted to the left. _Nothing. _Emerald eyes darted to the right. _Nothing. _

Paranoia coursed through her veins as she bit the insides of her cheek, a hand coming up to her face to rub at her eyes and keep her alert; she was just feeling so... _scared. _

What had happened the night before was just utterly terrifying after she remembered she _actually _had the gall to defy the President's law (not to mention getting him angry to the point where he wanted to beat her up right then and there); and now that she was alive and well, she feared for her life. She didn't want to die—especially not by the hands of a peer (naturally was the way to go)—and she couldn't help but feel a bit regretful (and not to mention a bit stupid) at the fact she had done that.

She was practically a delinquent. And she resented that; but whether she was actually one or not, she knew her death was signed in blood and tears—_he was probably looking for her at the moment, his mind set on killing her and only her, and in the _worst _way possible. _

The rustling bushes nearby made her head snap up in attention, her emerald eyes (which were baggy, dull, puffy, and red from the lack of sleep she had gotten the night before) growing wide and frantically searching around for anything that had to relate to purple-gray eyes, dangerous smirks, and bloodlust.

The bush rustled again; _oh god, oh god, he was out to get her and she needed to get away, get away, she couldn't die, not now_—she made a run for it without any second to spare, bolting down the street with the skirt of her uniform flying behind her, the navy fabric whipping in the air. Her heart beat against her rib cage as quick as each step she had took, paranoia lacing her pale and sickly features; she didn't want to fight him, she really didn't, but she needed the book, she needed it, and... and...

The pinkette stopped running after a few more moments, a bead of sweat running down her forehead as she tried to regain her breath from all the action; with the chance of running into the President again, she couldn't go to school, but she needed to keep her grades up (and keeping grades up meant going to school each and every single day as to not miss homework)—she knew she was taking a shot in the dark, but hopefully she wouldn't see him around. Maybe—maybe he was busy somewhere beating up some other trespassers, so she could go to school and just make a run for it when school was done and, then she would be _alive _and _not dead _and _not covered in bruises and cuts and blood_—

"Yo, Sakura!" _OH GOD IS THAT HIM PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE PLEASE DON'T KILL ME AND_—her heart skipped a beat momentarily, pausing in her panting, and slowly looked over her shoulder with her face being drained of all its color and her emerald eyes growing wide with paranoia and fear once more.

_As soon as she'd see him, she'd run again and hopefully she'd lose him with her chakra-enhancing, then maybe she could hide out at home for a few days _(or maybe a few weeks) _until he'd forget about her very existence and go on being the big bad President he was_; luckily for her, it wasn't the President, and her thoughts calmed down promptly when she realized it was only Yamamoto and Gokudera.

Yamamoto looked as lively as ever, with a hand giving her a small, cheerful wave and his lips twitching up into its usual smile; this, surprisingly, had calmed her down a bit, relief flooding her veins as her shoulders and fists relaxed—_the President wasn't there, he wasn't he wasn't _(she could almost cry out in joy)_. _Although, she did notice how uncharacteristic the silver-haired boy looked: he was shifting on his feet in an awkward manner, avoiding her eye contact with his face scrunched up as if he were mentally debating on whether or not he should say something.

Her thoughts traveled to the insults he had threw her way before and all she could do was look down at the ground, her brow furrowing in frustration.

She inwardly scowled, biting her lip in order to prevent herself from breaking out in tears again (although, she did note that she had possibly cried all of her tears the night before); _to him, she was nothing but Bill-board brow. _

Not a human, no, with flaws and talents, but a lone mutant-freak that had the most ridiculous hair color and the widest forehead in the entire world (her reputation ever since she was a little girl—always has been, always will be, but she guessed people forgotten about that nickname...hopefully it'll stay forgotten unless Gokudera wanted to make her life even more like hell)—but who was he to judge? He didn't know _anything _about her.

He didn't know how it was like being beat up by kids in grade school just for being different, or just because she was child that didn't have a father, or just because she was being herself.

Today, she was (supposedly) the smartest student in the school, and independent girl with her whole future ahead of her—9 years ago, she was a shy and timid girl that was tired of being pushed around as if she weren't human, tired of being beaten up each and everyday just because of her pink hair, tired of being ridiculed in front of the adults, tired of every single thing that the world had made her go through. She had been there and done that, and _she never wanted to go through that again._

But him? She took a silent and deep breath, clenching her fists around her bag strap as she shifted her weight onto the other leg. She was absolutely certain that with he had the agenda to rip open her old wounds and—as if he were pouring salt by the cup into it—break her down with each and every insult that was headed her way. With her, it was always, "Pinky this," and "Pinky that," and "Pinky, get the hell away from boss."

If 8 years ago she was tired of everything, then today she was tired of hearing so much crap from that one person—that one person who got on her nerves and didn't know how to shut up. (One day, she'd make sure he'd have the term, 'if you haven't got anything nice to say, then don't say it at all' engraved into the walls of his empty mind.)

_Jerk. Jerk. Stupid jerk with no sense of sensitivity. _"Pinky—I mean, _Sakura_...I, erm...I'm sorry. For yesterday, and uhm...for making you cry." _STUPID JERK_—EH?

Her head snapped up (oh man, that nearly gave her a whiplash), her emerald eyes going wide as she stared at the dynamite expert with her jaw going slack and eyes shining in disbelief; did Hayato Gokudera, the boy who seemed as if he hated her guts since the day they had met, the boy who was rebellious and spiteful to everyone besides Tsuna, the boy who had been so mean and made her cry the day before, just _apologize_...to _her? _

She blinked a few times before her eyes narrowed in confusion, tilting her head to the side, "Gokudera-san, would you mind speaking up? I didn't really quite catch you." _**Yeah, I just wanna make sure I heard you right!**_

She inwardly pursed her lips when he let out a small, irritated 'tch,' but the irritation was quickly replaced by the awkward look as he looked down once more, his brow furrowing and his feet shifting awkwardly; his mouth opened and closed a few times, no words coming out, but she stayed patiently with her hands resting on the strap of her bag.

After a few more moments of silence (she noticed Yamamoto glancing at the other boy expectantly, as if he knew what he was going to say), she was about to brush it off and be on her merry way (she had forgotten that the President could be around, lurking the streets and ready to kill her; she shouldn't let her guard down so easily) when Gokudera let out a small breath and looked up, the corners of his lips (_oh man_, she was going to remember that sight for as long as she lived) twitching up into a strained smile.

"I said that I'm..._sorry, _uhm, for yesterday. I didn't mean to make you cry, or call you that...and I'm sorry."

_He was sorry. _

Hayato Gokudera, rebellious boy of Namimori Middle School and a mafia hitman that specialized in dynamite, had just apologized to her. And no matter how badly she wanted to burst out laughing at how utterly stupid he looked at the moment, standing in front of her with his twitching smile and his hand outstretched as a sign of peace, she couldn't—sure, he looked as if he would revert back to his scowling-ways as soon as they reconciled, but the look in his stormy green eyes told her that he was truly sincere about apologizing. _She couldn't do that_—not when he had shown courage and apologized to her unlike the people of the past.

And so, with the edges of her lips twitching up, she grasped his hand firmly, lifting her head up to meet his surprised eyes as she mustered up the most grateful smile she could muster, nearly shivering as the cool metal of his rings came in contact with her warm (and clammy, she disgustedly noted) palm, "Thank you."

_Thank you_, because he was the only person in the entire world that had ever apologized to her—because his courage would be respected, because he had the guts to swallow his pride and actually admit he was wrong.

Letting out a small laugh, she let her hand drop down to her side as she shifted on her feet, completely missing the tinge of red that laced the silver-haired boy's pale cheeks when she did so; once she lifted her head up, she saw him let out a quiet 'hmph' and turned away, crossing his arms over his chest; _well, that was an experience that would forever be remembered_—but, fortunately for him, she wouldn't go on and rub it in his face to embarrass him. (Although, she would certainly use it to her advantage in the near future.)

"You wanna tag along with us to school?" She rested her gaze onto the taller boy, tilting her head to the side in question, but all he did was smile down at her with renewed vigor as he slung an arm around her shoulder—she inwardly swooned (and on the outside, she practically swooned since he was much more taller and heavier than her, the weight on her shoulders nearly had her knees buckling); _he...he was so _warm!

The blood began to rush to her cheeks, but she brushed it off when he began to speak once more, "Walking to school's a lot better with friends. And if we're lucky enough, maybe Tsuna can tag along with us, too!" _**Of course, SHANNARO!**_

"That would be great," she chimed, pulling at her brown school backpack straps (which reminded her that she needed to get her favorite bag fixed; earlier in the morning, the bottom ripped open and all of her stuff spilled out—basically, it was a total pain in the freaking ass) and nodded up at him—and with that, the smiling trio (excluding Gokudera, who simply scowled, but that had to be some sort of smile where ever he came from) made their way to school, taking another alternate route that she had never been through before. Yamamoto informed her that the route they were taking had the bridge, so they could stop and watch the water flow for a little while (and she thought this was a great idea, because besides making her want to pee really badly, rushing water calmed her nerves), to which Gokudera vehemently protested against.

The smile on her face only grew softer, shaking her head as she distantly listened to their loud, one-sided argument about how 'water is stupid' and how Gokudera should 'lighten up and smile for once.'

She inwardly laughed; she wouldn't admit it to them, but it felt..._safe_ with them, being with people who make her smile each and every day. Sure, she'd fight with them (_well, one of them_) sometimes, and they'd get on her nerves at moments, but they were still the people she was most comfortable with; and this was the first time she'd actually hung out with so much people. She craned her neck to once again look at the two boys, who were still arguing about who-knows-what.

At that moment, she realized they were her _friends. _Her only friends—along with Tsuna, Kyoko, and possibly Ryohei. (at this she was confused; did Ryohei consider _her _a friend?) For that, she smiled happily; _she had real friends. _Cue the warm and fuzzy feeling deep in her gut that made her resist the urge to squeal, because _hot damn _she had _real _friends after the longest time of having _none _(_because no one wanted to hang out with the weird pink-haired girl_) and—

"HARUNO!"

_And _who _would be calling her? _If the person weren't so loud (and so...oddly passionate; for some reason, the loud voice made images of fiery eyes pop into her mind), then maybe she would've turned around with her eyebrow raised in curiosity; she expected to see a random person with their fist aimed towards her head (which she'd dodge expertly, catch the person off-guard by tripping them, and knocking them out with a harsh punch to the back of their head) because of the amount of intensity lacing their voice was alarming.

And so, she turned around with her eyebrow raised in curiosity, expecting the punch coming at her face—_wait, what is that? _Instead of dodging, tripping, and K., she stood awkwardly as something—or possibly _someone_—came at her at a quick speed, and as it got closer, she could vaguely make out the person who ran, the trail of dust kicking upwards as their legs moved; but then, as the person got closer at an alarming rate, her eyes widened in realization as she recognized the short tuft of silver hair, the Namimori Middle School uniform, the bandaged hands, _the pair of gray eyes that blazed with passion_—

"HARUNO!" She inwardly cringed at the loud volume; _didn't he know it was the morning? _Surely, there were still people trying to sleep...through the corner of her eye, Yamamoto's eyebrows rose, muttering something under his breath (she could indistinctly make out a question, which was something like, "Is that Ryohei Sasagawa-senpai?") while Gokudera's left lower eyelid twitched, his lips forming his trademark scowl.

With a heavy sigh, she turned her attention back to the still-running Ryohei (who, she noted with amazement, had been running nearly a few kilometers away before he had called out to her; _such good eyesight and projection!_), preparing to reject his offer (_demand_) of racing to school (only to be forced to race anyway and get her top dirty from all the dust)—its not like she had anything against him, no, of course not! Ryohei, despite his overwhelming motto of 'living to the extreme,' he was a nice guy with a good heart (and a soft spot for his little sister, who he forgot to tell her name, and would always talk fondly of her whenever Sakura would smile; she felt flattered when he told her that her smile reminded him of his sister's: bright, gentle, and genuine), and would always give her an adrenaline rush to wake her up whenever they ran in the morning.

_Though... he _did_ have a strong passion for boxing. _

She inwardly groaned when she remembered what happened when she asked him what the bandages on his hands were for; he had immediately yelled out 'BOXING!' nearly scaring the crap out of her with the intense look in his eyes. _**HE ALMOST SPAT IN MY FACE! **_

Shaking off her previous thoughts, she gave a cautious smile to his non-sweating (_**how the hell could he not be sweaty? The guy just ran throughout the whole city**_—_**twice!**_) form as he skidded to a halt in front of them, gray eyes focused solely on her and ignoring the confused-looking Yamamoto and the annoyed Gokudera, both whom chose to step out of the way when the upperclassman grabbed her shoulder, looking her in the eyes, "It's a great morning to do some extreme running! Let's race, Haruno!" _Here we go again..._

She opened her mouth to reply, but then an irritated, scrutinizing voice interrupted her, "Tch, why don't you buzz off, _turf top? _We've got better things to do than play tag with you." She inwardly pursed her lips, shaking her head in disappointment; _really, Gokudera? __**THAT'S NOT HOW YOU MAKE FRIENDS! **_ But unfortunately, Ryohei wasn't as tolerant to the other silver-headed boy's insults; and it was proven when Ryohei counter-attacked with an insult of his own.

"What'd you say, _octopus head?_"

Resisting the urge to sigh, she brushed off the upperclassman's hands off of her shoulders (though, there really was no need to; at nearly the same time he had let go and pointed to the now-fuming _octopus head _[_**oh yeah, I'll be sure to remember **_**that **_**for future use, haha!**_]) and backed off from the now yelling duo, taking one of the empty spots next to an amused-looking Yamamoto.

Sure, it was funny seeing them insult each other's hairstyles (oh, who was she kidding? She was practically _dying _inside; _**bahahaha! "Monkey-faced?" "Lawn head?" HILARIOUS!**_), but it wasn't funny for the people that passed by...by the time of their third minute of spewing insults, she had counted three people who sent all of them—including her and Yamamoto, who were innocently watching and chatting on the side—disapproving shakes of the head; she could hear them mutter things like 'stupid kid' and 'damn delinquents' under their breaths, and once it had passed the fourth minute mark, she had had enough of their arguing and decided to pacify things.

(_And if nothing it pacified...__**prepare for all hell to break loose.**_)

"Hey, guys," she started, her face breaking out into a nervous, awkward smile, putting her hands up in defense as she took a few cautious steps towards the bickering duo, "Can't we just calm down? People are beginning to stare..."

_**YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME IN FRONT OF ALL THESE STRANGERS! **_But, unfortunately for her, Gokudera had other thoughts (for he probably didn't gave a rat's ass about what she thought despite the fact that he apologized)—instead of complying to her request, he whipped his head in her direction, shoved Ryohei (who yelled out in protest) aside, and marched in front of her with a ringed index finger stabbed in her face.

"Shut up, Forehead! You're the reason why we're going to be late to school in the first place—if you hadn't ran into us, then turf top here wouldn't be such a pain in the ass!"

_**...FOREHEAD? **_

(_Well, it wasn't as bad as the _other _one, but still._)

Her temper boiled dangerously, all previous thoughts of Gokudera having a change of heart towards her (_he even _apologized_, for Pete's sake! Hayato Gokudera, rebellious bad boy who played with explosives, apologized to her and she had to admit her respect for him grew a tiny bit after he did so!_) flying out the door; _once again, she had had enough with his stupid little—_but instead of storming off like she had done the day before, she did the total opposite.

Oh, no, she didn't cry—she had wasted them all the day before on something she should've forgotten and moved on from years ago (but she could start now)—instead, she did what she wanted to do whenever people irritated her to the point where she wanted to pull her hair out: she snarled, walked up to his equally-irritated face and scowling face with her fists balled, pulled her right fist back and gave him a good _punch _on the back of his octopus-looking hair.

And when he fell to the floor comically, letting out a pained yelp in the process as the impact cause there to be a small, shallow crater, she felt all her anger and irritation dissipate. She huffed out, crossing her arms over her chest, "Will you just _shut up _for once and stop being so rude? You're the one taking your time arguing with Ryohei-senpai!" _**YEAH, YOU IDIOT! SHANNARO! **_

"Hah, octopus head!" Her emerald eyes glinted, snapping in the direction of the laughing Ryohei; _oh no, you're not getting away scott-free! _

"And _you!_" With fire blazing in her eyes, she her fist pulled back once more—it sailed through the air with grace that only a ninja would have (_**oh yeah, shishou would be proud!**_), targeting the top of Ryohei's head with the small, nearly-invisible bald spot and caught his laughing form off-guard by sending him to the hard asphalt face-first with the infamous and comical double bump throbbing along with another shallow crater; _well, so long to their brain cells..._

"You're too loud! People could still be sleeping at this time, and I'm sure they woke up as soon as they heard your voice! So _both _of you keep it down, or so help me...I'll knock some sense into you in the most _painful _way possible."

She swore her knuckles were steaming (along with their bumps) from the harsh impact, but she brushed it off, instead choosing to let out a 'hmph' and wiping the imaginary dirt off of her hands. Raising an eyebrow, she peered down at their twitching and groaning forms; _she might've hit them a bit _too _hard...but there wasn't even any chakra! _And they needed a good smack to shut them up so that the other would be restored. (_Hey, where did everyone that was watching go? Did they all run away?_)

"F-F..." She turned her attention back to the two on the floor—one, of which, a certain silver-haired bomber, who propped himself up with the edge of the crater; through framing, silver bangs, he glared up at her cross-armed form, stormy green eyed filled with anger (she could practically see the steam blowing out his ears), "You idiotic woman..."

Luckily for her, Ryohei had chosen than moment to push himself off of the ground (quite literally; it was as if he had magically popped up and was now all up in her face) and prevent Gokudera from finishing his insult; the silver-haired boy's glare was blocked out by—_was that someone's crotch? _She immediately directed her gaze (_**gah! My eyes!**_) to Ryohei's unperturbed face, feeling her own heating up from embarrassment.

The older boy—who's cheeks were bruised and dirtied from the asphalt—grinned excitedly at her (_what the heck?_), his shoulders hunching and his fists balling (_oh gosh, I have a bad feeling about this..._) near his face as he all but _gushed _out (the manliest extreme way possible, "Haruno...that punch was extremely passionate!" _EH?_

"I just remembered that you were that girl that played in Tsuna's volleyball match against Class 1-B...that girl got hit in the face, and I thought she'd be a goner for the rest of the game. BUT NO! She got right back up despite taking that hit and returned that hit full-force—and her eyes, they blazed with the passion I see in each and every boxing rink," he looked down at her taken-aback form, eyes gleaming with the never-ending flames of passion, "The split second before your fist came in contact with my head, I saw the undying passion again in your eyes and then I realized _you_ were that girl—not only did you help in making a turn-around for the game, but you had put all your strength into that single punch, and _that _is true passion! I'm impressed by your skills, _to the extreme! _The boxing club would enjoy having you there."

She blinked a few times, _completely oblivious to the fact that his _face _was only _centimeters _away from her own_, her mind racing with thoughts; _how could he not recognize her in the volleyball game? She had _pink _hair. _

She shook her head of those thoughts and concentrated on the big picture: _Ryohei Sasagawa, asking _her _to be in boxing? _She blanched as he once again grabbed her shoulders for the second time that day; _just what was wrong with him? _Maybe she had hit him a little _too _hard (and possibly cracked his skull) so now his brains all friend and scrambled—_and she had just hit him in the head! _

The least he could be was mad at her for nearly killing him (she inwardly snorted; _**psh, there wasn't even any chakra! How could little old me kill anyone?**_) But then again...she looked up at Ryohei's grin with raised eye brows, searching for anything that could indicate a concussion; when she found none, she mentally sighed with relief. _Okay, he wasn't hurt. _And when she felt warm air fanning her face in deep breaths, she snapped out of her musings and found him hunching over to look her in the eyes. _Their lips, so close, so close_—out of reflex, she craned her neck so that their faces could be as _far _away from each other as possible (_her fist kiss had been nearly taken away!_), but then she remembered his request.

Sure, the club sounded interesting (_oh, who was she kidding? It sounded boring! And she had enough sports on her hands already_), but...SHE WAS THE ONLY _FREAKING _GIRL THAT WOULD WANT TO JOIN. Not only that, but it would only add to her already-hectic schedule of training, grade-redeeming, and personal moments. (And she'd be damned if Tsunade made her join boxing anyway_._)

Before she could continue, Ryohei pulled her close (_t-too much contact in one day!_) and tucked her under his right arm, slinging it around her slender shoulders as he pivoted to his left; confused, she watched with a bewildered face as his free arm shot up into the sky to point at...something non-existent—the open space of the sky (_or maybe he's pointing to the cloud?_), a random point which made her want to scratch the back of her head. He looked down at her with an excited grin, "You see that? That's the Madison Square Garden Star...and with your strength and stamina, our aim for the World Championship Boxing will be closer to achieve!"

_World... CHAMPIONSHIP BOXING? _She nearly face-palmed.

"What are you blabbering about, turf top? You can't see stars in the daytime, idiot." _**THANK YOU FOR COMMON LOGIC! **_Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she sent a brief glance at the glaring Gokudera (well, he was glaring at _her_ probably because she had literally pummeled him into the earth; but she just shrugged it off because she knew it was pointless trying to argue with him now since she had another problem on her hands [such as trying to tear herself from Ryohei's firm grip on her shoulders]) and mentally groaned; _geez, he's only going to make things worse. _And Ryohei wasn't making things much better, either.

The said boy released her—_finally!_—to snark back at the bomber, and as soon as his hand was lifted, she all but jumped away from him with the intention on not being dragged into their second verbal fight. Sure, there were people staring and shaking their heads once again, but all she could do was sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose; _she tried to tell them, but they were just too stubborn for their own damn good. _

Irritation boiled up inside her as their voices escalated into shouting, insults of who's hair looked more stupid than the other and lowered wits being exchanged, and with each and every jab, she found it even more pointless to try and stop their match like she had done previously. _**I swear, hot-heads these days! **_

"Why don't you go and punch yourself a concussion, turf top—"

A familiar, boyish scream pierced thought the air, stopping her and everyone else in their tracks; her head whipped in the direction it came from, chakra already pulsing in her ears to see what the hell was going on—_that cream had sounded so familiar, but she just couldn't place her finger on it..._next to her, the three boys (including the previous bickering due) looked in all directions to find the origins of the scream, but unlike them, she was focused on the southeast, brow furrowed in concentration as she bit her lip, trying to single out the voice from everything else. _Someone could be in danger, so she needed to act quickly or else...__**LIKE HE I'LL LET ANYONE GET HURT, SHANNARO! **_

"Did you guys hear that?" Next to her Yamamoto spoke up, eye brows also furrowed in worry as

_"Good morning, Tanaka-kun!" _Nope, that was too high-pitched and girly. She strengthened her hearing once more with a tiny amount of chakra.

_"Coffee... my savior, ahaha!" _Not that one...

_"So that girl! She actually called my phone number and now we're on for another date at the Cake and Bread_—_"_

_"Can't you just shut up, Amane-chan? You've been crying for three hours straight all because I broke your toy horse_—_"_

_"Blah, blah, blah, go suck on a lemon_—_"_

_"Shut up, freeloader! How dare you cheat on me with that_ tramp _from Tokyo!" _That was _obviously _not the one; she quickly tuned that out, shaking her head and ignoring the curious glances from the three behind her—_her nosiness would get her killed one day. _Concentrating again, she paused when she heard the voice that screamed, which practically stuttered out gibberish that sounded like, "N-No way! I don't want to fight you!" and, "Why are you chasing me?" Despite the situation, she sweat dropped; _that...that guy sounds so pathetic. __**YEAH, NO WONDER HE'S GETTING BEAT UP! **_

She was about to make a dash and stop an upcoming fight from happening (and to prevent some wimpy kid's dignity from being damaged by the embarrassment of getting bulldozed in public) when another voice—an unfamiliar, high-pitched voice—all but growled out, followed by something swishing in the air, _"Fight me, Tsuna-san! Show me that you're a real mafia boss!" _

Alarming bells rang in her ears.

Stifling a gasp, her eyes widened and she froze in shock; _someone knew Tsuna was the mafia boss. _Didn't that mean he was going to be assassinated...?

_Crap! _She bolted as soon as realization dawned on her that Tsuna was in danger, ignoring the concerned yells of the other three as she made her way down the street and in the direction of the bridge—her mind was racing, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she turned a corner and into the road that lead to the bridge, a tiny bead of sweat rolling down the side of her neck; _she wouldn't let him die, she wouldn't, because what use would an ally be if they couldn't protect the one they were allied to? _

She gritted her teeth, hands balling into fists as she quickened her pact; the argument between Tsuna and the unknown attack became louder with each and every step she took, only elevating her worry. She wouldn't be useless—and she was going to protect him, _dammit_, because _that's what friends are for! _

Brushing off the surprised calls of the three, she bolted off without another word down the street with her skirt whipping in the wind, her pink hair (which was beginning to get too long again; it was now covering her shoulder blades, ending at her upper back) swaying wildly as she all but jumped over fallen trash cans and swerved to the side with each pedestrian that walked too slow for their own good. Her hearing did not once falter—in fact, she had strengthened it a bit more to have better chances of where Tsuna's voice came from. _Crap...was he in danger? _

The sounds of rushing water began to come closer, and she furrowed her brow in confusion, pausing in her steps to listen intently to where it was coming from.

_A river? _Realization dawned on her—she began to run once more towards the nearest bridge, which rested over Nakayama river and was an alternate path to walking to school. Before she had sped off, she heard someone call out her name, beckoning her to wait, but she brushed it off with the shake of her head and continued to run with her eyes set in stone-hard determination. And as she neared the bridge, she couldn't help but feel confidence rise up in her chest; she _wouldn't _be useless.

The morning fog—which was beginning to lift, luckily for her—was thin and light, allowing her to make out moving blobs on the bridge up ahead. Narrowing her eyes, she focused on what they were; _was that Tsuna? _Her unvoiced question was answered when the said boy's voice pierced through the air with an all-too familiar screech as one of the blobs fell to the ground, the other blob pausing to lift up the silhoette of a _hockey stick_—she didn't even wait to see what would happen, she didn't even wait for the rushing footsteps of the boys behind her; she simply clenched her fists and sent chakra to her feet, blood rushing in her ears (though she could make out the crunch of the concrete beneath her as she applied pressure down with her chakra-enhanced feet). The next moment, she found herself blocking the wooden hockey stick with her forearm, towering over Tsuna's wide-eyed and relieved form.

_Just in time; __**and now, some butt-kicking will commence, SHANNARO! **_

Narrowing her eyes into dangerous slits, she glared at the now-trembling form in front of her—who's form was dressed up in pink samurai gear that clacked with each tremor of shivering, their head covered in a black and white motorcycle helmet that hid their identity (well, she was going to find out who it was that _dared _to hurt one of her friends..._one way or another_) from her view—and growled, slowly bringing her hand up to take a hold of the wooden appendage, "I'll give you three seconds to tell me _why _you're here and _what _you're going to my _friend._"

One. "I-I..."

Two. "T-Tsuna-san, h-he's...!"

"THREE!" Within a semi-second, she had pulled the weapon out of the armor-clad person's hands and obliterated it into splinters with her chakra-laced hands, making the other person take a cautious step back (she _swore _there was a muffled, "Hahi!" from the other side of the helmet). Ignoring Tsuna's panicked yell, the pinkette pulled her left fist back (_**screw the gloves, they can wait another day!**_) and punched the ground in front of the culprit—missing their feet by only inches—watching with prided satisfaction as the bridge was showered with dust, debris, and small chunks of concrete; she wasted no time in kneeling down to Tsuna's side.

She briefly checked him for any injuried (once again, his worried splutterings fell deaf to her ears) before standing up once more, giving the brunette a reassuring smile, "Don't worry, Tsuna. I won't let you get hurt."

_Because that's what friends are for._

With new-found determination to protect what was precious to her, she slowly made her way past the chunks of concrete that flew around and towards the (surprisingly still-alive) samurai-wannabe, who trembled from the sprawl on the floor. _If they thought hey could just try and hurt Tsuna, then they have another thing coming! _She was about to pull her fist back (which was, unsurprisingly, covered in a thin layer of chakra) when the person waved their arms wildly in the air in a somewhat panicked and distressed manner; she narrowed her emerald eyes, lowering her fist—_you better take the moment to explain and it _better _be a good one._

"W-Wait! Please, let me explain!" The person's muffled voice quickly spoke, and before she knew it, their helmet flew off—she reeled back slightly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising; _it was the brown-haired girl with the bandana from the day before at Tsuna's house!_

Low and behold, the brown-haired girl sat on the floor, bowing in apology (were those _tears?_); before the pinkette could react, the tearing girl continued, rubbing at her eyes, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you angry, hahi...! I was j-just trying to test if Tsuna was a worthy mafia b-boss..."

Oh. _Well, you can't just go around chasing people with hockey sticks! Now look, I feel guilty..._swallowing her regret for nearly scaring (killing would be the more appropriate word) the life out of the girl, she softened her eyes and tried her best to not let the emotions show on her face, instead choosing to purse her lips (_crap, it looks like I'm pouting!_) and cross her arms over her chest, looking away, "You shouldn't risk your life by doing that...there are people here that don't take too lightly to those kinds of actions." _**I COULD'VE KILLED YOU, YOU IDIOT! **_

The pinkette walked towards the other girl—who's shoulders sagged in relief—and offered her hand (_which secretly was her way of a truce_) while giving the other girl an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry for, erm, trying to punch you."

The girl simply laughed (albeit nervously; _great job, Sakura_) and forgave her, taking her hand with hesitant gratefulness. She had introduced herself as Haru Miura, a student of Midori Middle School, who was truthful about the fact that she was testing Tsuna; at first, she was just trying to save Reborn from Tsuna's "evil environment" (she stifled a laugh at this), but then she realized she was dealing with a mafia boss (she inwardly gaped; _did Reborn really tell her this? Was he freaking crazy?_), she decided to go through great lengths to conquer him.

"A-And Haru is sorry for causing any trouble, hahi..." The darker-haired brunette apologized, bowing repeatedly at the other relieved looking girl—Sakura let out an inaudible sigh as she shook her head in forgiveness, mustering a small, awkward smile that seemed unfamiliar to the situation at hand. With sagging shoulders, she bent over to snatch the forgotten helmet hear her feet from the ground, dusting away dirt and dust before handing it over to the grateful Haru, "You shouldn't really be apologizing to me, Haru-san—"

"Please! Call me Haru-chan, Sakura-san!"

She blinked slowly before letting another small smile settle on her lips (_**well, someone sure is upbeat after nearly being pummeled to the ground**_), "Well, I'm not the one that you should be apologizing to, Haru-chan."

As if to emphasize a point, she jerk her head in the direction of Tsuna, who looked uncomfortable standing near them with his ever-so-wide eyes switching back and forth between her and the Midori Middle schooler; it took the other girl a few moments before her face lit up in realization and nodded, locks of chocolate bouncing as she did so.

She watched without another word as Haru strode over to him with her shoulders back and her head hung high, hands balled at her sides—sure, it looked like she was about to cause another fight (_**she better not 'cause I won't be afraid to scratch some faces and pull on some hair, shannaro!**_), but she had a feeling it wasn't what Haru was trying to give a message of. Low and behold, the said girl all but stuck her hand out for a hand shake of truce with her face set in resolve, "Tsuna-san, I'm truly sorry for trying to hurt you today. But don't be so arrogant about it! If you hurt Reborn-chan, I won't be afraid of taking action!"

The pinkette's eye brow rose in curiosity when the other girl's shoulders tensed slightly, staring at her through her peripheral vision with an audible gulp before turning back to Tsuna with trembling hands, "E-Even if it means I have to face S-S-Sakura-san, h-hahi...!"

She couldn't help it—she smiled to herself with pride and humor lacing her lips, covering it with her hand to act as if she didn't hear anything; she knew it was supposed to be a threat, but Reborn probably wouldn't let anything go that far. (...would he?)

And her whole day went fine after that.

Well, that's how she wanted it to go..._but really, when did things _ever _go _her _way? _While Haru and Tsuna conversed about how everything was just a big misunderstanding, the young Haruno caught sight of Gokudera, Ryohei, and Yamamoto running alongside the river on the road that lead to the bridge, and she squinted her eyes to see what was happening—_oh no. _

Her stomach dropped ominously as soon as she saw the cylindrical items in between the bomber's fingers, the tips lit with a bright orange flame that could be seen through the mist and _he threw them in their direction_—

"TSUNA, HARU-CHAN, DUCK!" She tried to turn on her heel, she really did, and she tried to run towards them as fast as she could, _but she just wasn't fast enough_; she had been too late to react, and even with chakra, she wouldn't make it to them in time.

She looked over her shoulder only to have the near-to-exploding dynamites only feet away from where they stood (_no, no, she couldn't let anyone get hurt!_), and so she tackled both of their surprised forms down with the intention to shield them from the explosion with her body (even if it meant having the whole backside of her uniform blown off, she'd make sure they'd remain unscathed).

"Boss!" And that was the last thing she heard before the onslaught of dynamite exploded, her and their bodies (_Haru was sure skinny...it felt like she was holding thin air_) roughly plummeting onto the concrete with soft 'thumps!' She waited for the searing pain to happen—_**I SWEAR, IF THOSE DYNAMITE MAKE SCARS, I SWEAR SOMEONE'S GOING TO GET CASTRATED**_—with her eyes squeezed shut and pulling Tsuna (she would have let him go and kick him into yesterday _because he buried his face into her chest and was screaming in her ear _but Tsunade would surely have her ass if she found out she had created time-travel and now two Tsunas existed in the same time zone with each other, causing a paradox which would blow up the entire world) and Haru closer to her so that they wouldn't catch any of the debris, but luckily for her, the explosion had finished, only leaving her with soot stains on the back of her uniform and a few scratches on her arms.

"S-Sakura-chan...!" As the smoke began to clear, she propped herself up with her elbows to put some distance between her and him and looked down at the jaw-dropped brown-haired boy, concern lacing her pale and soot-covered face, "T-Tsuna, are you okay?"

After a few more minutes of staring and looking like a suffocating fish, he nodded slowly, ashes from the dynamite falling off of his gravity-defying spiky head as he wiggled himself from underneath her form, also propping himself up on his elbows while she rolled off of him and onto her back, looking up at the blue sky above. _It's so amazing how the world could stay so beautiful even with all the crap happening today_. Next to her, Tsuna leaned over her resting form with a pale face, wide brown eyes searching her body for any wounds.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"L...Luckily, I missed taking the direct hit so the explosion only bruised me up a bit," she assured, letting out a deep breath, wincing as she propped herself up onto her elbows, "Nothing too serious, though. How's Haru-chan?"

Sluggish and still feeling the effects of the explosions, she drooped her head in the direction of where Haru had supposedly been, her vision still blurry, but then..._where was Haru? _Once things began to get crystal clear and the sluggishness wore off, the pinkette looked around for any sign of the chocolate-haired girl—she swore she had tackled her down, she thought she had.

After a few moments of thinking it over, replaying the previous scene of her tackling the two of them to the ground, her eyes widened in an epiphany when she realized _Haru must've slipped out of her grip. _

A few feet away, something shined in the morning sun near the railings of the bridge; squinting her eyes, she focused her attention on the mysterious object as she pushed herself off of the ground, dusting her uniform (well, it wasn't like it would come off but it was worth a try) before cautiously making her way only for her emerald eyes to go wide and all the color of her face to drain, leaving her to look like a ghost and (_she was rambling, she knew, but she couldn't help it_)—

(_Because that was Haru's helmet on the ground._) Dirtied and left alone, the only thing she could assume was that the explosion had all but blew the poor girl over the edge. And _that _was when she began to panic.

"H-Help! I c-can't swim...the a-armor's too heavy!" As soon as she heard that voice, Sakura rushed over to the railings (_no no no no no_), secretly hoping Haru wasn't in the water (_no no no no no_) and wasn't drowning like she instantaneously assumed she was (_no, no, no, Haru was probably just joking and was under the bridge and screaming out half-hearted cries for help_).

Leaning over the edge with shaky hands and an accelerated heartbeat, her breath all but hitched when she saw a head of brown—chocolate-colored and soaking wet, it shined in the beautiful sun of Namimori—frantically bob up and down in the slowly-moving river, hands wildly grasping in thing air for something to grab on to while the water splashing up and around.

She was about to scream but her voice caught in her throat, the only thing escaping her lips was a choked yelp—someone took the empty spots besides her, panicking and masculine voices filling the air, and amongst the masculine voices, Tsuna's shriek stood out, "Haru-san! She's drowning! She's drowning!"

_**THANKS FOR **_**SCREAMING**_** THE OBVIOUS, DUMMY! **_

It took her nearly a minute to realize that Haru—unfortunately—was pretty much doomed. Through the corners of her eyes, she analyzed each and every person that would be suitable for doing the job: Ryohei was strong, with a boxer's build, and she assumed that he would save her pretty quickly, along with Yamamoto, who played a lot of baseball and was really athletic, but since they still hadn't moved from their place next to her, she figured they wouldn't jump in and try to get her out of there; Gokudera probably wouldn't waste his time saving a stranger (also seeing as he was the perpetrator for throwing those dynamite at them, he'd probably hold her head down for 'trying to hurt his precious Boss'), and Tsuna...

_Wait a minute. _

When the thought of Tsuna swimming came into her mind, she immediately remembered something from Physical Education several months prior. She had been sitting idly near the edge of the pool, and she had watched as her classmates expertly swam laps in the water; but while she analyzed, something brown and awkward-looking had caught her sight.

The person who had stood out wasn't too fast, not being able to keep up with the pace of the others, but not slow enough to show that he was slacking off: a decent swimmer—she had recalled his name being Tsuna. She brightened considerably, the panic being reduced to nothing but a mere sigh of relief; _Tsuna would save her! _Even if he didn't swim very well, he was still good enough to save her!

(Years later, she would discover that the only reason why he swam decently was because the coach had took pity on his poor, unathletic form and lent him a pair of clear, transparent floaties to help him glide over the water's surface.)

Grabbing the brunette's shoulders, she gazed at him with firm, determined, and hope-filled emerald eyes, "Tsuna, you have to go in there and save her!"

"W-What? No way!" She felt him gently try to pry her hands off of his shoulders, but she didn't give in, leaning towards him to emphasize her point, "Tsuna, you _have _to. Haru-chan will die!" _**NOW GO IN BEFORE I THROW YOU IN, SHANNARO!**_

His wide brown eyes shut tightly before his hands flew to her wrists, squeezing them as if he wanted reassurance, "Then...Then why don't _you _save her?"

_That _made her stop in her tracks, her body freezing in hesitation as her own pair of orbs widened in surprise and embarrassment. _Now, she had a legitimate reason for not being able to go into the pool. _But...she was just too ashamed to admit it. But seeing as Tsuna wouldn't go into the river himself without her having a good reason, she lowered her sight to the ground and shifted awkwardly on her feet, feeling her brow furrow as she murmured though long, pink bangs, "I...I can't swim."

She could imagine him blinking, saying—"Wait, what?"

"I said I can't swim!" She inwardly groaned when she realized her face was now tomato-red, and that she had spoke a little too quickly for her liking; _dammit, why do I have to be embarrassed by such a common trait?_

"I-I can't swim either—hey, someone else has to save her!" He was beginning to desperately escape her grasp, but there was no way she'd give in. She inwardly growled, head snapping up to meet his gaze; _she hated liars, especially ones that lie for their own selfish reason! _

Tsuna probably didn't want to get wet, but BIG FREAKING DEAL, if he didn't want someone to die that day, he needed to _suck it up_ or else Haru's blood would be on _his _hands. She could practically feel the fire emanating from the deep recesses of her soul as her grip on his shoulders tightened (not enough to hurt him), making him pause in his panicking.

"Tsunayoshi Sawada," she began slowly and dangerously as one hand dropped to her sides to form a shaking fist that was just itching to land a punch on the top of a certain spiky-haired brunette's head; the said boy froze at the sound of his full name and stared up at her inwardly raging form as she shoved a fist in front of his now-pale face, "You better get your _butt_ in that river, swim until you can't feel your legs, and _save _her...or so help me, you'll be black and blue for the _rest of your entire life._" _**And that's a promise!**_

His mouth opened and closed a few times as if to reply (_he better give her a good reply! If he didn't say anything in the next few seconds, she'd carry out her alternate plan of just throwing him in the water herself_), but instead of his voice coming out, Gokudera's voice pierced through the tense air in a growl, feeling him tightly grasp the wrist of her fisted hand and yank it as far away from Tsuna's face as possible (but it felt as if he were holding back; she was practically certain Gokudera wouldn't waste a chance at dislocating or breaking her arm) while threatening her, "Look here, Forehead, I don't know who you _think _you are, but when Boss says he can't swim, _he can't swim. _So why don't you just buzz off and lay your filthy, harlot hands off of him!"

_**WHY THAT NO-GOOD, LOUSY, SUNNOVABI**_—

Something inside her snapped, nearly blinding her vision with red; _**THAT'S IT! **_Yanking her hand away from his grip, she roughly pushed the silver-haired boy aside (and, unfortunately, into the two athletes nearby, who were caught off-guard by her now-flushing face and his profanity-screaming form) and snapped her heated and fire-filled gaze at the pale-faced Vongola Boss—with the quick movement of both of her arms, she had him suspended in the air and over the rushing waters of the river, "_SAVE HER!_"

"S-SAKURA-CHAN! NO! I CAN'T SWIM—" That was all she heard before the rage once again blinded her vision; letting out a loud cry, she tossed him over the edge and watched in slow motion as his flailing form sailed vertically through the air. But through his cries for help, she heard a familiar squeaky voice speak out for the first time in the day, "Then learn how to swim out of _Deathperation_!"

Two gunshots followed shortly after. Tsuna's cries stopped. Something big crashed into the water.

She was about to peek over the edge once more when she felt it coming—something with an aura of fury, anger, maliciousness—and without delay, she jumped out of the way in time to dodge an on-coming handful of dynamite that exploded as soon as it came in contact with the spot she had been previously standing in, leaving a large, gaping hole at the side of the bridge and chunks of concrete lying around nearby.

She inwardly growled; _just what the he'll was his damn problem? He couldn't just waltz around town and throw explosives at innocent people_ (wait, she 'accidentally' punched and kicked a girl at school when she was 12; was she still innocent?), _expecting walk away scott-free_—that was how people got killed around here despite the mafia being in town!

"You traitor!" Gokudera roared out from the smoke-filled area. Alert and in a defensive crouch, she switched her sharp gaze from one side of the wall of smoke to the next, hands already covered with the black leather gloves as she tried to find where he was. _**I AM **_**SO **_**GONNA BASH HIS SKULL IN! **_

She was just trying to do the right thing—if she hadn't done that, Haru surely would've died from the weight of the armor and the river; and she _knew _Tsuna was just lying about not swimming and _dammit all to hell and back _all she wanted to do was the _right, morally right _thing and what she got in return was a _freaking handful explosives that was meant to take her life. _

(Just what was wrong with the world and the people inhabiting it these days?)

"You call yourself an _ally,_" his voiced said, much venom and hatred spilling out, "Yet you go on and throw Boss over the railings! You practically tried to _kill _him!"

(Okay, maybe she _did _have intentions of beating him up, _but _that was only _if _he still refused to save Haru.)

The smoke now dissipated, revealing the silver-headed boy nearly ten meters away with another batch of explosives ready for use and a menacing leer placed on his handsome face. _Challenge accepted. _And so, with her hands balled into fists, she jumped up from her previous crouch and sent a heated glare at the perpetrator—only for stormy green eyes to return it with as much hate and scorn.

Thrusting an accusing finger at the silver-haired boy's offensive form, she all but snarled out, "What's your damn problem? _You_ tried to killed _me_!"

Neither of them waited for a reply—as soon as the words left her mouth, he threw the now-lit dynamite at her, but she was quicker (_**hell yeah I am!**_); before the sticks could touch her, she pushed herself towards him with chakra-enhanced soles, feeling the wind run imaginary fingers through her long locks of pink. The dynamite exploded behind her and she smirked; _that was _just _what I needed. _The force of the explosion sent her soaring through the air quicker—the look on Gokudera's face was just priceless as she pulled her fist back and prepared herself for a punch that would surely knock some sense into him, her right fist glowing a beautiful shade of emerald green.

"SHANNARO!" Her fist came in contact with the cold, concrete surface of the bridge, a large 'CRACK!' echoing throughout the whole area of Namimori—unfortunately, Gokudera jumped out of the way in time, hands flying to his back pockets to grab more dynamite.

Anger coursed through her veins at the realization that _she wasn't strong enough or fast enough to actually lay a hit on him. _She inwardly swore, knuckles closing tighter around the glove as she dug her still-glowing fist in the crater; _dammit, dammit, dammit all! _The sounds of cracking increased steadily until another crack formed at each side of the crater, increasing and increasing and increasing to the point where both cracks reached the opposite sides of the railings of the bridge.

A few more seconds of teeth-gritting and glares of fury, the bridge collapsed, unable to handle the sheer strength of her punch.

The cracking became a loud a explosion of the bridge, her fist breaking it into giant chunks of concrete as everything fell into the river beneath it; in order for her not to get smashed by the sheer weight (which she could obviously break into smaller, tinier pieces but decided against it), she pumped more chakra to her heels and jumped into the air, causing two holes to form as she propelled herself off of the giant slab she was on while it was still falling—through the corners of her eyes, Gokudera had done the same and landed on the street up above, hands already prepared with a dynamite in between each space of his fingers. _Blind as a bat, this'll surely put you in place._

_**Oh, he was in for it now, SHANNARO! **_Luckily for her and her quick-thinking, she landed on another chunk that was still in the air and used it to push herself in another direction with her hands clenched into tightly-balled fists and her emerald orbs brightly lit with fire, fury, and sheer anger, hearing it disintegrate into a million tiny pieces as she soared through the sky—and towards the unsuspecting form of Gokudera Hayato. Her left fist pulled back, the distance between their bodies come closer inch by inch with each second that passed.

(_Was it her or was there a cold breeze between her legs? Ew._)

_Closer. _They were several yards apart now, and she prepared for the harsh impact of the concrete to nearly break her knuckles. _Close. _When there was only a few meters between them, he finally looked up with a face that probably said, "WHAT THE—" She smirked. _CLOSE ENOUGH! _

They were now only feet apart, and she was about to punch the ground beneath her (_**SHANNA-FREAKING-ROOOOOOOOO!**_) when she realized Gokudera's face was red. _Too red, to be exact. _Now, in the duration of time before everything went wrong, she wondered just what the hell was wrong with his face—but it wasn't as if she cared or anything; she was just curious as to why his pale face was now the shade of lava from a volcano, as if he were waiting to explode.

And then blood trickled down his nose—slowly flowing (drip by drip—like water leaking from the ceiling on a rainy day) until he was forced to drop his unlit sticks of dynamite to hide his bloody appendage. "W-What the fuc—" (Everything went wrong here.)

That was when it hit her as soon as she realized her skirt was flapping wildly in the air, hearing the whips of the cottony fabric hit against each other in a battle of dominance and—_her skirt was freaking flapping in the goddamn air! _WHAT THE HELL! (_So _that _was why everything felt so breezy down there and why Gokudera's face was red...__**I'M WEARING MY FREAKING POCHACCO PANTIES, TOO! DAMMIT ALL TO THE FIERY PITS OF THE DEEP DEPTHS OF HELL!**_)

Her pale, heart-shaped face lost all it's color in a heart beat before it slowly turned many shades of red and crimson, her hands unclenching quickly and flying to attempt to hide her aqua-striped panties from all that watched the scene—who were, unfortunately for her poor soul, a group of adolescent teenage boys whose childhood innocence were already tainted by TV, magazines, and the Internet. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to endure the embarrassment.

_Fuck her life._

"NO! Don't look, don't look!" Her hands flew to cover herself, shielding herself from gazes that was perverted and sick-minded (well, she assumed the whole world's eyes were on her right now). That was all she could get out before she collided into a wall of warm, soft, clothed flesh—and while she stared up at the sky with her body on top someone else's, she silently asked the deities up above why they loved to torture her so. _**I HAD DONE NOTHING WRONG! NOTHING AT ALL! WHY? WHY DO YOU ALL HATE ME SO?**_

Despite the pain of the impact coursing throughout her whole body, she forced herself to crane her neck so that she could see where she had landed and _who the hell _she had landed on; blinking away the dizzying surroundings, she paused when she was looking at the empty space between her legs and nearly jumped when she saw a face—still red and angry-looking with a tiny smudge of dried blood still visible under his nose, he _really _looked like he was about to explode—pop out of nowhere.

Immediately, she reacted. "YOU PERVERT!" His face turned a deeper shade of red (_was that even possible? That's _way _too much blood already_), and that was all she saw before she hastily pushed herself off of him, not even bothering to dust the soot off of her already-ruined uniform.

But because Gokudera was, in her brutal and harsh opinion, a closet-pervert who liked seeing teenage girls' panties, she wanted to punch the living daylights out of him. And you know what she did? She cocked her left fist in preparation of the most hurtful thing in the entire world—no chakra; it hurt like hell even without it—and quickly brought it down upon his unfortunate octopus head of silver. Oh, she could practically _see_ the infamous bumps forming as soon as his face flew to the side and into the remains of the concrete they were on.

"Sakura! Are you alright?"

With her face still pink (_she will not think about it, she will not think about it_), she spun on her heel and sent an automatic glare at the other two boys who were unfortunately caught up in the action—but there were no traces of red or embarrassment laced on their faces, and for that, she bit back the urge to sigh in relief.

_Good, they didn't see anything. _Quickly wiping off the blush and the glare, she quietly awaited for Ryohei and Yamamoto to jump their way towards her (_and Gokudera, but she wanted to forget that he was ever really there so she wouldn't remember what had just happened_), hands wringing the ends of her skirt—thankfully, the chunks of what was left of the bridge formed a trail that could easily be jumped on from one to another, so the duo didn't take much time in getting there.

Of course, regardless of the collapsed bridge and the havoc that was probably caused by them, everything still seemed normal—starting with Yamamoto, who stood with a hand to his chin in a thinking position. "Can you believe the old bridge finally croaked? I always thought it'd last longer than this."

Ryohei nodded his head in agreement, brow furrowed, "This bridge had to be the oldest in Namimori next to the Hoshino bridge near Kokuyo," but then his dark gray eyes burned with as much intensity as he usually had, hands balling into fists as he threw one in the air, "It is an extremely extreme honor to be a witness when it's at it's ending days! This is what I call _living_ to the _extreme!_"

At the baseball player's statement, she laughed, rolling her eyes while her shoulders sagged in a relaxed manner, hand running through her bangs as she shook her head. She grinned, still laughing at his naivety; _oh, Yamamoto-kun and Ryohei-senpai...thanks for lightening up the mood, even _if_ both of you are adorable goofballs. _Letting out a soft laugh once more, she looked up at the two taller people with her emerald eyes shining with light-hearted mischief, "Well..."

_**TIME TO PUT MY ACTING SKILLS TO USE, SHANNARO! **_The two boys in front of her gave her their full attention, silently beckoning for her to continue. She feigned understanding, looking around at the fallen chunks, "It was very predictable. I mean, the bridge has been here since our great-grandparents were still alive, and the years of erosion and the refusal to reinforce the bridge a bit more didn't do anything to solve the cause."

"Yeah," Yamamoto murmured, amber eyes traveling from her to his surroundings and the still-flowing river that fought to escape through the cracks of tightly-packed spots of debris. "It sucks though—some people I know use this bridge to get to work and...eh?"

When she saw the taller boy's eyebrows shoot up, she cocked her head to the side in question; _why did he stop mid-sentence? __**YEAH, WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT FOR HIM TO BE SO RUDE AS TO NOT FINISH HIS DAMN SENTENCE? **_Holding back an urge to scrunch her nose up in distaste—in which she failed to do—she followed his gaze, looking in his line of sight..._wait a second, _just what the heck was that?

In the distance, about 20 to 30 meters away on the other side near the edge of the river, a blob of brown and pink emerge from the water, soaking wet and dripping from head to toe and climbing onto the river bank in a hurried manner. She squinted harder, shielding her eyes from the sun to get a better look, but as soon as she saw a certain head of spiky brown, she knew. Emerald eyes widening in realization (of the fact that _Tsuna actually saved Haru from drowning_), her face was about to break out in an ecstatic grin as she lifted her hand to wave wildly at the two, "Hey, Tsuna—"

"BOSS!" _Oh _hell_ no. _At the sound of his voice, she unwillingly turned her head in his direction, glaring daggers at his now-standing form. She analyzed his current status: the bloody nose had been wiped clean, his bumps had been expertly covered by his hair, the blood flowing from his cheeks and again throughout his body—_yeah, he was fine alright. _

(Maybe she'd change that later on when she pulled him aside to threaten him into not saying anything about her...previous embarrassing moment. Yeah, maybe she'd do that later.) She shot him a dirty look that went unnoticed by him; of course, he'd want to look spick and span for his precious boss. If he was going to be Tsuna's "right-hand man," then he'd need to look top-notch and badass. **Psh.**

"Oi, Sawada!" Ryohei was the first to leap off in their direction, following and jumping along the path to the river bank, Yamamoto cheerily following after him. Once the two were out of earshot, she snatched the back of Gokudera's collar—who was about to jump onto the first chunk of cement that lead to the other side of the river—and pulled him back onto the platform they were on, brushing off his protest of profanity and insults. She let go before he had the chance to brush her off. Looking up at his glaring, stormy green eyes, she narrowed her own emerald orbs and crossed her arms across her chest in a defiant matter.

"Okay, look. I don't like you, and you don't like me—"

"That's an understatement!"

She snarled, her patience wearing thin (and when she meant thin, she meant it was suspending over a river full of angry crocodiles that were urging her to beat the crap out of him now, only being supported by a layer of glass that was as thick as a needle) as she jerked her thumb into his chest, going so far as to stand on her toes to make sure he got the _damn _message, "I don't care wise-ass, you can hate me all you want and spit on my grave when I die, but let's get one thing straight—there is _no _way in _hell _we're ever going to agree on anything, and I've come to my damn terms with that. The day we agree with something will be the day the world ends and shit gets real, but _dammit _Gokudera, there will only be _one _damn thing we'll agree about, and that will be the _only _thing we'll agree about."

Before he could reply, she shifted on her feet and looked away, trying to hide the light pink her cheeks had taken. (_**REALLY? PERFECT TIMING, YOU STUPID BODY. The next time you make me blush will be my downfall!**_)

"W-We'll agree that nothing—and I mean _absolutely nothing_—happened earlier. For all we know, the bridge collapsed naturally and not intentionally, you didn't get a nose bleed or see anything that could make you have one, and I..." She coughed, clearing her throat as she looked back at Gokudera's now-blushing-and-irritated face as she continued with her eye twitching, "...and I didn't lose all my pride today. Everything went fine and normal, and we _certainly _did not get into a fight. Agreed?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just...shut up already so I can get back to boss." Her temper flared, but she pushed the urge to bonk him on the head—instead, she flashed him a smile that was sugar-coated and false, roughly brushing past him and towards the path of debris.

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a narrowed glance—a sign that clearly said, "Don't you dare say anything or else I'll pulverize the crap out of your puny, useless, little stick you call a body!"—before jumping off into the direction of where Tsuna and Haru were, making sure to keep her balance or else she'd slip and fall into the waters. Once she was on the other side, she dusted her clothes off and made her to where everyone else was, crowding around the two that were previously in the water.

"Tsuna! Haru-chan!" She sprinted towards them with her hand waving in the air, her face contorted in worry as she stopped to crouch down in front of their dripping wet forms, "Are you two alright?"

Tsuna, who was still in his boxers, nodded, "Y-Yeah, we're pretty fine." Haru simply stared up at her with her brown bangs sticking to the sides of her face, a shaky smile lacing her pretty features as her trembling hands came up to give her an A-Okay peace sign.

She let a joyous smile lace her face; _everything was alright. _

But her peace did not last long—(she just had to jinx it) suddenly, a larger form roughly brushed past her in order to get to Tsuna, catching her off-guard and sending her off-balance, nearly tumbling into the river; everything went in slow motion as she fell (and her day certainly would've gotten worse because there was _no _way she'd be going back and forth between school and home) with the world around her stopping for a moment along with her heart, although luckily for her, Yamamoto—being the _**dreamy gentleman **_he was—acted quickly and caught her by the upper arm, helping her up with his cheery grin as a laugh escaped his (_**oh so kissable! EEEEEEEEE!**_) lips, telling her that she needed to be more careful or else she would've fallen into the water and then Tsuna would have to save her again.

She blushed—of course, not because of Yamamoto (well, she _would've_ if not for her current situation and her short-temper beginning to make her blood boil at the mere sight of a certain boy), but because Hayato Gokudera had evolved from being a homosapien, and was now a total _prick _with no sense of being a gentleman—and uttered her thanks, giving him a half-hearted smile and a small bow.

As soon as she turned away, the smile fell from her face and receded into a snarl, hands balling into fists at her sides as her emerald orbs leered furiously at the back of Gokudera's octopus-looking head of silver, resisting the urge to just tackling him down and smash his pretty little face into the river bank. Then, maybe she'd hide the body in one of the cracks between the fallen parts of the bridge—fortunately, she had gloves that would not show her fingerprints, therefore, there would be no evidence.

_**TIME TO GET BUSY, SHANNARO!**_

"B-Boss...I'm sorry for not being able to save you from being thrown into the river. This is all my fault—I'm not fit to be your right-hand man if I can't even catch you." By now, Gokudera had dropped to one knee in front of the kneeling Tsuna, who stared down at him with something akin to horrified awe before sputtering out, "Gokudera-kun! T-There's really no need to apologize—I mean, don't be so hard on yourself and...and it, erm, wasn't your fault or anything, so please...just get back up."

For a moment, she thought about agreeing with the brunette with a vehement nod, but decided against it; _it would only make things worse. _She fisted the seams of her skirt, wanting to put her fist in her mouth to prevent her from saying anything she might regret later but she knew she would explode soon with insults and snarky replies if Gokudera kept blaming himself (because it looked utterly pathetic seeing him like that, seeing such a hot-headed and strong character be so...out-of-character in the face of someone so cowardly and timid like Tsuna).

"Gokudera-kun..." Tsuna started uneasily, rubbing his forearm in a dubious matter. The said boy shook his head in denial, standing up from his crouch on the ground to turn around and stare at the floor ruefully while his bangs fell over his face, shadowing his angry stormy green eyes from the world as he clenched his fists at his sides, "No, Boss. It's all my fault and I let this all happen...you could've died if it weren't for Reborn's Deathperation shot."

Suddenly, the silver-haired boy broke out in a monologue of how he wasn't fit to be Tsuna's right-hand man and how it was all his fault (when her and Tsuna knew perfectly well that Gokudera had _nothing_ to do with everything that had happened besides throwing a few bombs here and there, and that he was just being an over-dramatic idiot on the verge of having a catharsis), and after a few more minutes of hearing Gokudera's 'sob and self-hating' speech, she snapped, inwardly growling menacingly; _I can't take this crap any more! _

She had had enough—first, she was almost blown to bits, second, the bridge broke, third, some douche she just met saw her panties, and now the said douche was making a complete idiot of himself by rambling on and on about something that _was not his __**damn **__fault! _(In other words, _IT IRRITATED THE HELL OUT OF HER_—and when she was irritated, things _never _ended happily.)

And so, she took action—by walking up the the silver-headed idiot, bonking him on the back of his head (now this was completely out of habit), and then jabbing a finger at his writhing form on the ground with her eye twitching and her teeth gritting.

"Stupidera, just shut up already! Quit blaming yourself for something you didn't do and quit sulking about it. And get up! You look like an idiot." Letting out a loud, 'harrumph,' she crossed her arms over her chest and stood with her weight focused on her left leg, tapping impatiently for the boy to get back up and begin to yell at her for being such an idiot.

_At least he'd finally shut up about his 'faults'_—to be frank, arguing with Gokudera and hearing him call her names that would hurt her pride was entirely better that hearing his monologue of angst (because it only hurt _his _pride), so she did what she had to do. After a few more moments of cradling his hurt head on the ground and letting out pained mutters, she thought he wouldn't get back up (which was pretty sad, she admitted—his fiery personality was at it's lowest at the moment) and was about to change the subject when a low growl emanated from his lips—she then found herself once again looking up once again at stormy green eyes that glared at her with as much hate and fury.

She narrowed her eyes, leering up at him with irritation; _oh, she had been waiting for this day to come. _She _definitely _wanted to punch something at the moment, but it was better to take her anger out by yelling her ass off at someone who just _really _got on her nerves sometimes (most of the time).

He screeched in her ear, "You should talk! You're the idiot that started it, anyway! If you hadn't thrown Boss over the bridge, then things wouldn't have turned out this way!"

By now, their faces were only inches apart, chests close but not close enough for them to be touching, yet she couldn't care any less; her hormones were in-check, being overwhelmed by her growing temper as it threatened to break through its barriers. Surely, if she weren't so mad and frustrated, then she would've sputtered out insults with a blush—probably back away and fall on her butt, but she was _definitely _mad and frustrated. There was no way she'd let herself be embarrassed for the second time that day.

"Oh, so it's MY fault now? Things turned out fine in the end, didn't they?" She roughly poked her finger in his chest, narrowing her eyes as her voice dropped into a low, threatening whisper, "Didn't they, Gokudera?"

He turned red at this, roughly pushing away her finger, "Fine? _Fine?_ Are you joking, or are you just _stupid?_ Forehead, can't you see that _Boss _nearly died? _And the bridge! _The bridge is nothing but dust now! Is _this _what you call _fine, _Forehead?" She gritted her teeth, hands clenching dangerously into fists. _**WHY THAT WISE-ASS PUNK, I'M GONNA KILL HIM!**_

"Stupidera, shut up—"

Of course, Gokudera—being his oh-so gentleman self (_note the heavy sarcasm lacing my voice when I say this_)—interrupted her, continuing where he had left off, his ringed fingers snapping into a point as he jutted his arm in the direction of the remains of the bridge, "The bridge is _destroyed _and its all your fault—"

She bristled, retorting, "And the bridge wouldn't have broke if you hadn't thrown those damn dynamite in the first place!"

"Yeah, well you shouldn't waltz around, thinking you can destroy things for no good reason!"

"Will you stop blaming me? Or are you just embarrassed 'cause you almost got beat by a _girl?_" This seemed to get to his nerves, as his ears turned a deep red that put blood to shame.

He roared, "I wasn't _beat, _the battle was interrupted! And the only reason why _you _would win would be because you don't know how to wear _shorts _under your _fucking skirt _when you know perfectly well that the wind would cause it to fly up! _You're _the one who played dirty by _deliberately _flashing your panties like some harlot in one of those perverted magazines—"

The air around her and everything else that stood within a ten feet radius dropped a few degrees. With each word that came out of his mouth, she did everything she could from tearing him apart right then and there; _just who the hell did he think he is? _How dare he! He knew, _he knew,_ that they agreed to not say _anything _about what had happened earlier and just what the hell did he do? She inwardly cursed, gritting her teeth even harder in an attempt to calm herself down; _he was going to die_—_he even had the _nerve _to talk about it in front of their _friends? He was dead to her.

_**YOU BIG-MOUTHED BAFOON! YOU RUIN **_**EVERYTHING! **_**And it wasn't deliberate**_—_there was no way, no freaking way in the universe, that she would ever pull-off a deliberate panty shot._(Deliberate or not, she wouldn't in a million years!)

Screeching out in frustration and embarrassment, she hastily ignored the rest of the group—who were simply staring on at their argument with confused faces and cocked heads (through the blood that pumped in her ears, she heard Haru ask the three boys in a shaky voice, "Don't you think you should stop them or something? They look about ready to rip each other's throats out, hahi..." To which Yamamoto answered with a loud, hearty laugh and a dismissive wave, "They do this all the time, you shouldn't worry. They're like a married couple, always arguing and fighting over the most ridiculous things, haha!")—and punched Gokudera smack-dab on his cheek.

_And it felt so _good.

Her punch, she noted with pride and dignity, had sent him flying in the direction of the others, nearly making the two shortest of the four—Haru and Tsuna—jump in alarm, the former screaming in horror at the sudden sign of violence while the latter yelped, quickly reaching out to catch the wincing silver-haired boy before he hit the ground. The scream of protest that came from Haru's mouth, who pleaded for Sakura to calm down, flew past her ears, and instead of obeying the brunette's cries, she strode to Gokudera with a look of pure distaste and resentment.

"We," she began, voice nothing but a low growl as she snatched the silver-haired boy from Tsuna and held him up by his collar, pulling him towards her, their faces nearly inches away—so close, she could feel his labored breath fanning her lips. Her voice was lowered in an attempt to make sure no one around them heard, "Had an _agreement. _So just _shut your mouth!_"

Before he could reply, she quickly let go of his collar, dusting her hands of _germs _Gokudera might've had and took a deep, calming breath that did absolutely nothing to pacify her boiling anger. He didn't say anything; instead, he stood with his mouth set in his usual deep scowl, arms crossed over his chest before he once again turned around to make sure Tsuna was safe. She inwardly screamed in her head; _this was the worst morning of my damn life. _

Vexed and aggravated beyond belief, she spun on her heel—with her hands clenched around her school bag and her teeth grinding roughly against each other, she stormed off, but not before looking over her shoulder at the rest of the group. "I don't know about all of you, but I'm leaving. I'm already late for school."

_Not that it mattered, anyway. _The anger inside her boiled once more, and she discreetly shook her head to brush the urge of screaming out off. They were calling her now, asking her to come back but she just couldn't handle it all anymore—she was just so sick.

Sick and tired of her day, sick and tired of Gokudera, sick and tired of how _every single little thing _never went her _damn _way...just _so sick and tired. _And all she wanted to do was get a long, long break away from everything, and school—at the moment—was the only alternative. (_Just great. Not only am I failing, but I'm being absent a lot lately, too. There goes my chances of having perfect attendance._)

Surely, a few worksheets and textbook pages to read would calm her nerves and let the irritation die down. The pinkette let out a shaky, trembling sigh as her petite and dainty hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose; _gosh, why did things have to be so stressing? _She only 14! With training, the Mafia, and school (and brawling Gokudera daily) all bunched up in her life, she was certain she'd get white hair by the time she was—

Something in the air changed.

And it wasn't in the oh-my-did-it-just-get-colder way, but it was utterly significant—it was so shocking and quick that it actually made her stop in her tracks. Her eyes widened, feeling her palms go sweaty in an instance; _where had she felt that before? _The feeling felt so familiar, so bitterly and eerily familiar, but...she just couldn't put her finger on it. Don't get her wrong—it wasn't as if she _liked _that feeling (if she had the chance, she'd obliterate that feeling once and for all; it was super unpleasant), but she was just curious as to what (_or who_) would cause it.

It was tense, thick, filled with bloodlust and electrical sparks that sent ominous shivers down her spine and made her throat go dry. After a few more moments of standing there in the open, the voices of the people behind her drifting off, she froze; _someone was staring at her. _Intently, no less—but it was malicious, like someone trying to wrangle her neck with their eye sight alone, and she'd never admit it but it just made her feel so squeamish to the point where she _actually _considered running back to the group of teens behind her and hide amongst their taller forms.

Footsteps were heard above her, at one of the jagged and still-standing edges of the bridge near her—the uneasy and malicious intent increased and _oh gosh. _Her heart began to beat wildly against her chest in an attempt to get her to listen to her instincts (_which were also telling her to run as fast and as far as she could away from that place_), but she pushed it away with the denying shake of her head; _it was irrational. _Completely irrational—

"Hmph." For the third time that day, she froze. For the nth time in her life, she foresaw her death.

Because that voice—_that deep voice, oh-so-painfully familiar and easy to remember, smooth, velvety_—belonged to someone who could easily beat down the Grim Reaper (not particularly beat but...[she gulped at this] _bite him to death_), and that someone nearby. She dare not utter his name.

It was only then she put the pieces together, her eyes widening once more in an ominous epiphany. _He was right above her._

_No, don't look, DON'T YOU DARE LOOK! _But she couldn't bring herself _not _to look for some foreboding reason; it was as if invisible, unbreakable strings had been placed under her chin and was reeling her into what would be the end of her life. She didn't blink, she didn't breathe, she didn't even twitch—she simply lifted her chin up, her once extravagant and compassionate eyes dulled with fear. As soon as she saw the red strip of fabric pinned to the sleeve of with a safety pin, she knew. Her heart dropped in an instant.

He peered down with sharp purple-gray eyes that looked on with disinterest. Her breathes became short, and a bead of cold sweat rolled down her wide forehead. _NO! RUN! _But she couldn't, she knew; her feet were stuck to the ground and frozen in place, and she looked down only to see her legs had turned into jello and shaking with much ferocity. She inwardly whimpered; _she was doomed. _

Shaking her head, she once again found herself gazing in horror at the older boy, who yawned for a few moments before blinking. _He looked so harmless_—she silently laughed to herself at the sheer whimsical idea of it: _the _Kyoya Hibari? _Yawning? _For a moment, she actually thought he was human. (_Which, she grudgingly admitted, he was_—he was just a human being with inhuman powers.)

But that uneasy feeling hit her like a ton of bricks when his gaze snapped down towards her; she flinched. At that moment, at that single, exact moment their eyes had met, the world around them stopped and turned to red, coppery liquid. _Air! I can't breathe! _Her chest heaved up and down, faster and faster each second that passed and—the Prefect's purple-eyed gaze narrowed in bloodlust. It was time.

All around them—and only them—the red, coppery liquid swirled and rippled like a pebble that had fallen into a calm river. _Numb, numb, that was how she felt...oh so cold and numb and she just didn't know anymore. What was happening? _

_"I..." _His voice bounced around, echoing throughout the place they were at, and the red, coppery liquid rippling crazily. Her heart was beating too quickly now, too quickly, and she looked around frantically with her lips trembling and her eyes as big as saucers. _WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE AM I? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE? _Her vocal chords weren't working; she desperately wanted to scream. Everything was beginning to grow darker, the red, coppery liquid surrounding her and turning into a dark ocean of goop that enveloped her whole. The last thing she saw was a dark, ominous smirk that contrasted against creamy, pale skin.

_"...will bite you to death." _

Everything went silent—and she knew no more.

* * *

><p>Big doe eyes watched in interest from an unspecified patch of concrete as the scene broke out in hysteria before him. Reborn, in all his years of living, had never seen such a peculiar case before. Leon climbed onto his shoulder silently, probably wanting to watch it, too, and so the man-turned-baby offered his finger as a perching place; once the green lizard climbed onto his hand, he brought him to his lap and petted his spine absently.<p>

Tsunade's apprentice—who had piqued his curiosity when she had suddenly stopped in her tracks half-way to the stairs that lead back to the street—had fainted, and he had a feeling that it was because of the President of Namimori's Disciplinary Committee, who simply glanced down at her before stalking off towards school; she had collapsed shortly, her lips moving but too soft for him to hear. Although he had been focused on Tsuna's training, he had seen how she'd freeze up whenever Hibari was near. Something must have happened—an encounter of some sort—that might have triggered Sakura to have a phobia of him.

Haru had been the first to notice, letting out a worried cry as she jogged towards the pinkette's unmoving body. In no time, the four boys had followed after her, yelling out Sakura's name in an attempt to wake her up—Tsuna had slid his arm under her head while the other hand gently slapped the girls cheek to wake her from her slumber. Standing up and dusting the dirt off of his suit, he placed Leon back on the rim of his fedora and focused his gaze at the panicking Tsuna; _it was time for his next lesson._

With quick speed, he jumped from his hidden spot and onto a certain boy's spiky head of brown with grace that only Arcobaleno had. Ignoring Tsuna's surprised stuttering, the baby greeted them with nonchalance, "Ciao-su!"

"REBORN!" The Tenth-in-training yelped, desperately trying to shake him off of his head; Reborn was quicker, though, as he once again jumped into the air, landing on the river bank easily. Tsuna continued, "Sakura-chan, s-she fainted! Do something, quick!"

"Quiet, No-Good Tsuna," the fedora-donning baby chastised with a small smile lacing his chubby-cheeked features, "She's fine. She just had a small...panic attack. Just let her rest for a bit and she'll be up and walking soon." He inwardly mused; _a panic attack caused by the fear of a 16-year-old boy? _He'd never heard of that before. At his re-assurance, the brunette let out a sigh of relief, and the rest of the teens that crowded them visibly relaxed, their shoulders slumping. Before anyone could speak, Reborn smiled up at Tsuna, his big doe eyes glistening; _It's show time._

"In the mean time, she can rest and recover at school—the Reception room is empty, I've heard, so it's best you take her there and get some rest yourself."

_The trap has been set._

* * *

><p><em>I finished it! YAHOOOOOOO, yeaaaah! Ahem. Excuse my rude behavior. Also, I really, really, <em>really, _want to apologize for not updating after such a long time. I've been so caught up with school and my after-school activities that I didn't have enough time to balance out homework and the computer; also, Writer's Block really bit me hard on the ass, :/ but I sucked it up and kicked it right back into the deep depths of my closet! Bahaha! And guess what? I got my straight A's back, :'D now all I need to do is work out my class work in Biology...-insertgrumblinghere-_

__OH, and I'd like to thank my wonderful beta, AnimaniacXOX, for taking the time to correct my spelling and grammar! :D __

_Hopefully no one seemed OOC, :C if it does, I might fix it. Might. Also, I fixed the spacing a little bit so that you won't have to read such long paragraphs_—LOL, _I was looking back at my previous chapters and I realized they were all so...long and hard to read and I mentally slapped myself on the back of my head for being so ding-dongy. _

_I also have a poll on my profile of who you want to read more of in this story; I'm just curious as to who people would vote for. But it's totally optional! You don't have to do it if you don't want to, or are too lazy, x) oh, I'm just joking! So yeah, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Keep on the look-out for updates~ :)_

(I do not own Naruto or KHR—I simply write fanfics for them.)


	7. in which the lotus blooms twice

It was a sad fact of life (that he accepted pretty easily) that Tsuna wasn't good at PE. His lack of stamina and the will to do things just made it hard for him to participate in physical activities like running laps around the court or trying to hit the ball in volleyball (_and he was so afraid to get hit by the ball; _at that thought, he resisted the urge to look down in shame), so obviously, jogging to school in the morning with the chance of getting caught by the President of the Committee was _not _in his to-do list.

But it was _also _a sad fact of life that Tsuna _wasn't_ good with girls.

He never was good with them to begin with. They were just too confusing, just so...contradicting, and it boggled his mind every single time he made contact with the opposite sex (but...he guessed Kyoko was the only exception since she was super-duper nice and all). He remembered one time in grade school; a girl had sat next to him in class for group assignment, and he was about to introduce himself like is mother had taught him to (_because mom always said that you should treat everyone the way they wanted to be treated_) when he stumbled on his words.

"M-My Tsuna is name—erm...h-hello," he had said.

He was only 8, yet kids at that age were mean and nasty—the girl, who he had hoped would be merciful and nice and would correct him on his mistake politely (_like Kyoko had done..._he had to resist the urge to sigh dreamily; the thought was distracting, as he nearly tripped on a crack on the sidewalk and had to brush away Gokudera's concerned yell), had done the complete opposite; she laughed with malicious intent and pointed at him throughout the whole class. And after that experience, nothing had ever been the same in his life. He was called names, and as time passed, his labels had evolved from, "Stupid," to "No-Good Tsuna"—his current label.

But back to the point at hand, _Tsuna just wasn't good with girls._

And Sakura Haruno, his young, pink-haired friend with weird magical powers, happened to be a girl—therefore, he felt awkward whenever he talked to her, despite the fact that they had been through enough in a short span of time.

From their little run in with a gang to defying gravity itself (he inwardly glowered; _geeze, to think that running into a dangerous gang and dodging so many bombs being thrown in their direction_—_courtesy of Gokudera_—_wouldn't bring them closer as friends was a pretty much unbelievable_), Sakura, he noted with slight disdain, was the type of girl with a short fuse (and packed a good punch which she _always _used to bring order in their small circle of friends) that would always be brash and non-verbally violent should anyone get her angry.

Yet despite that, she was nice, caring, level-headed and stubborn at times—the problem with that was that her mood-swings (which varied between happy and angry and sad to angry...again) were pretty quick to alternate. With that itty bit of knowledge, Tsuna quickly surmised that Sakura—with her short-tempered glory and her level-headed-ness—probably had a thing against _perverts. _

So when Sakura's skirt began to flap in the wind (and his vision of Pochacco was clear and concise; he slapped a hand over his nose in an attempt to stop himself from having a nose bleed) as Yamamoto jogged ahead on their way to school, Tsuna panicked.

"HIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE! Wait!" He wasn't good at physical education, but this was a crisis—should he leave the skirt be and let the whole world know her panties were Pochacco printed, somehow by a stroke of unfortunate luck, Reborn would probably tell Sakura after she woke up; and having been hanging out with her nearly every single day for the past two weeks, he surmised there would be consequences.

And consequences from Sakura always included being bumped on the head rather harshly—or worse..._she would probably grab herself a body bag and corner him one day after school and_—

Gruesome thoughts of being chopped up into little, itty, bitty, tiny pieces by the wrath of a pink-haired girl sent him shivering to his core—and so, with the full intent of preventing that from happening, the brunette waved his arms in the air, nearly crying out for the tall baseball player to stop immediately, "Y-YAMAMOTO! SLOW DOWN!" _I DON'T WANNA DIIIIIIEEEE! _

"Are you deaf?" He heard Gokudera bark from beside him. Turning his head to look at his silver-headed friend (_good, a distraction! WHATEVER YOU DO TSUNA, DON'T LOOK AHEAD!_), he sweat dropped when he discovered the said boy was _also _trying to hide the forming blush that was beginning to make its way to his ears—even if it was a failed attempt—but regardless of that, the boy had his usual irritated scowl on his face.

The taller 14-year-old continued, rubbing away the blood as he did so and sent a glare to Yamamoto, who had finally looked over his shoulder to hear what the commotion was all about, "Baseball idiot, Boss said to stop and wait!"

"Oh?" The baseball player's eyebrows rose a bit before slowing his pace—once the trio (plus the sleeping Sakura) was reunited, Tsuna—with his face colored red—stuttered out to the tallest boy, "Er, Yamamoto, is it...is it alright if you can carry Sakura-chan a different way?"

Yamamoto tilted his head to the side curiously, "Why? Does she look uncomfortable in her sleep or...?"

At that moment, the tall boy craned his neck to check the sleeping pink-haired girl's face with raised eyebrows, shifting her form slightly to get a better look at her face; the slight action had caused for her skirt to ride up her thighs a bit more and—Tsuna nearly cried out. _Oh crud, Sakura could wake up any moment and when she finds out about this, she'd _pummel _them for allowing her panties to be shown and..._

He gulped, swallowing the bubbling anxiety in his stomach and _desperately _trying to ignore the crimson that his cheeks were beginning to turn.

"No! I-It's just that..." Tsuna inwardly groaned; _why was it so hard for him to explain that her panties were showing? _

_It shouldn't be so hard!_ It was just, 'Oh, hey, Yamamoto, look, Sakura's panties are showing and she's gonna beat us up when she finds out about it, so could you please carry her some other way so we don't end up in the hospital after? Okay? Okay!' But _no, _he couldn't bring himself up to do it (and he had a deep feeling in his gut—_not the anxiety_—that it had to do with his awkwardness with girls).

And plus, it was easier to tell Yamamoto since he was a boy, too, and he actually _knew _him (because he was sure that if he told a girl, he'd get a black eye and wouldn't have anymore babies in the near future); luckily for him, Gokudera wasn't as shy—before Tsuna could finish his explanation, Gokudera shot the baseball player a dirty look, his scowl in its usual place and the blush no where in sight (he must've been super irritated for his blush to go down...), "When you run, her skirt flies up! For all we know, there could be perverts probably following us to get a good look at that damn vixen's panties!"

At that thought, the color in the brunette's face suddenly disappeared; _Sa...Sakura-chan might be stalked by perverts? _

The thought of strangers following him and blushing at the sight of Pochacco panties made him sick to his stomach, because _gosh darn it, _that was his _friend _they were looking at—and to make it even worse, she was _asleep _so she can't punch the living daylights out of them (more or less).

Now, it was up to them (_well, not him, per say_—_maybe Gokudera and Yamamoto; probably not Gokudera since he didn't seem to like Sakura, and he was still a bit iffy about Yamamoto because he was more likely to be wondering why a lot of people were beginning to follow them_) to protect her.

He looked over his shoulder to check if there _were _any of the said perverts—he actually _prepared _himself for seeing a legendary (in the worst way possible) panty stealer—but shook his head and turned his attention back to the situation at hand: to get Yamamoto to hold Sakura a more safe way. And so that the world wouldn't see her panties. (It was more of the latter situation, though; _if the school's uniform required girls to where shorts, then there wouldn't be a situation in the first place!_)

"Even when she's asleep, the stupid girl is _still _a pain in the ass," Gokudera mumbled under his breath, running a hand through his spiky silver hair before turning away with a nearly non-existent huff.

But Yamamoto—whose face was now as red as Tsuna's had previously been—had reacted in a much different way. The dark-haired boy had choked on his spit, looking over his shoulder at Sakura's sleeping face for a few brief moments before shaking his head. Nearly dropping the pink-haired girl on his back, he steadied himself and sputtered out gibberish that neither of them seemed to understand.

A single word that flew out of Yamamoto's mouth was the only word that Tsuna actually heard in his collage of splutters and stammering: "MAH!"

_Y-Y...Yamamoto..._

Tsuna couldn't help but sweat drop when the tall boy clumsily began to shift Sakura so that she was resting in his arms in a comfortably position (which, he absentmindedly noted, was pretty much how grooms would carry their brides when walking through the threshold); fortunately, with the way the baseball player was now carrying her, her panty was nowhere in sight (_no perverts or punches for him today..._). With a small sigh, he watched as the said girl began to snuggle more into Yamamoto's hold.

His attention was quickly averted to the boy holding her. Although his face was still tinted pink, the remnants of his previous blush slowly disappearing, Yamamoto turned to the two and gave them a bright yet embarrassed grin and the cock of his head, quickly shaking off what had happened earlier, "Reborn said the Reception Room, right? Let's go before we run into the President."

Nodding, the brown-haired boy followed shortly after the two taller ones began to run—this time, Sakura's skirt didn't fly.

After a few more minutes of running (and a few rest stops courtesy of Tsuna's short breath; he had to stop nearly ten times just so that he could get a generous amount of oxygen into his lungs before he started running again—_how the other two had so much energy even after the hectic morning that happened, he had absolutely _no _idea_), they finally reached the school gates and slipped past them as the bell rang.

Tsuna silently prayed to the higher deities up above for luck—because he surely would need it when lurking around in the same area as Kyoya Hibari. (Well, that was _if _wasn't lurking in the halls and catching people smoking in the bathroom.)

_Please, please, PLEASE, don't let me run into him! _The boy chanted in his head the whole time they zipped past classrooms and avoided teachers walking the halls.

Once, he had thought he had seen someone in the hallways with the red band clinging to their left sleeve and immediately screamed (which, unfortunately for his masculinity, was shrill and girl-like and embarrassingly too high-pitched for his liking), spinning on his heel to go to the stairs at the other end of the hall and make an escape from getting beat up.

He nearly tripped over the first step, only to be steadied by Gokudera—behind him, Yamamoto stood with Sakura soundly asleep in his arms. Envy clouded his eyes at the sight of Sakura's relaxed and serene face. In the back of his mind, he, too, wished that he was asleep and away from all the stress the morning had caused him (it was a plus if he were asleep in Kyoko's arms; he inwardly sighed dreamily and longingly—_oh, Kyoko-chan..._).

Tsuna, with his pride gone and out the door and replaced with the irrational fear of the Disciplinary Committee, comically crumpled to the ground with his hands cradling his head, "We're gonna get pummeled...one of the Disciplinary Committee members! They saw us, and they probably ditching class, and...and—"

"Oh, that?" Yamamoto laughed, his eyes of amber twinkling with humor; this had made Tsuna blanch (because really, was the Disciplinary Committee something to laugh about?)—not only that, Gokudera even seemed unperturbed (_well, he should at least be irritated..._) by the fact that they could've been caught and beaten on sight for being late and out of class.

Unbeknownst to him, the tall boy continued with a grin plastered on his face. "That was just the janitor. Apparently, his white arm band got mixed with his colored clothes and it turned red."

Tsuna blinked; _eh? _Gokudera nodded, his lips also twitching up into a grin. A re-assuring thumbs up was thrown in his direction, and the brown-haired boy could only stare cross-eyed at ringed fingers before looking back up into the determined faces of Takeshi Yamamoto and Hayato Gokudera.

"Don't worry Boss! I won't let any stupid Committee member lay a hand on you!" The brown-haired boy watched with a horrified expression as the stormy green eyes lit up with mischief, his ringed fingers digging into his back pockets to bring out an unlit stick of dynamite.

Something dangerous lurked beneath Gokudera's stormy green eyes. "They'll be blown to bits before they do!"

"Gokudera-kun!" The Tenth-in-training exclaimed, hands up in defense as he stood up; _really, the boy had a problem with blowing stuff up_—_especially when that 'stuff' happened to be the people around him! _(Was Gokudera a pyromaniac? If he was, Tsuna really thought that wasn't healthy.)He gulped, giving the silver-haired boy a shaky smile with his voice nothing but a weak squeak, "T-There's no need to blow anyone up, right? I mean, we're...we're almost near the room! Reborn said it was just one more floor above!"

He _seriously _hoped that going to the Reception Room would relieve his nerves.

Once he (and Gokudera, too, because Tsuna was afraid that there would be some explosions up ahead...) was calmed down, the trio-and-sleeping-Sakura made their way to the next floor, climbing up the steps and cautiously peeking their heads out of the door to check if there was anyone walking around. _The coast was clear_—and with that, they sneaked towards the room labeled 'Reception Room' and slipped inside. Letting out a sigh of relief, Tsuna closed the door behind him without a sound; _good, they had made it out alive. _

Shoulders sagging, he turned his attention to the room and—_HOLY COW, THE ROOM WAS SO..._he nearly cried at the sight of the comfortable-looking couches in the vicinity.

So far, the room had been the most beautiful thing he had seen the whole morning (_beside Kyoko-chan, of course_).

He was about to dive head-first into that leathery-looking couch (_IT'S THE CLOSEST THING TO A BED THERE IS! Rest...oh, couch, just take me away from this day!_) when a _kick _to the cheek sent him crashing into the wall behind him. Stars clouded his vision followed by the hearty laugh of Yamamoto (and a small, "Shut up!" from Gokudera).

_WHAT THE HECK_—he slid down the wall (painfully slow) and onto the ground, his throbbing and now-bruising cheek pressed up against the floor. A small whimper escaped his lips; Tsuna began to silently lament himself on why those things only happened to him.

"This couch is for Sakura-san—she needs all the rest she can get so that when she wakes up, she'll be alright again. No-Good Tsuna, you can have the floor if you want."

A few footsteps reached his ears and stopped in front of him, and he didn't need to look up (which he probably wasn't going to do since everything, at that moment, was hurting) to know that Reborn was smiling down at him in his innocent and cherub glory. Peering up with pained and irritated brown orbs, Tsuna mustered the strength to shoot the baby—who perched casually on the edge of the desk that rested in front of the windows—a dirty look, weakly pushing himself up with one hand while the other rubbed the bruise on his cheek tenderly.

When he was finally up, he whined to Reborn, "Reborn! What the heck was that for?"

The said baby simply smiled as usual, "You're forgetting something, Tsuna—you're supposed to treat a woman with the utmost care, and right now, Sakura-san's unconscious while you are up and healthy. Stop being so whiny and find another make-shift bed to rest in."

Tsuna argued no further, and with a small pout, he dragged himself to one of the seats that were parallel to the couch—as he did so, Yamamoto made his way to the said couch and gently laid the sleeping pink-haired girl on it, brushing the stray hairs away from her and to the side, afterwards pulling away to explore the room.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly and let his body mold to the structure of the comfortable seat; _this beats sitting in a desk for a majority of the time _any _day..._distantly, he heard the other occupants in the room converse about something that had to do with 'perfect views' and 'headquarters' but he brushed it off, instead choosing to tune them out and let his mind drift off somewhere else.

A small giggle was heard from in front of him that had went unnoticed by the others in the room; groggily, he cracked an eye open and settled his gaze on the face of Sakura, watching with a soft (_and still tired...all that running sure wore him out_) expression as she smiled gently to no one in particular, a small pink tinting her cheeks.

(He'd never say it out loud and would keep it to himself but he'd admit that despite being asleep and unaware of her surroundings, she still looked so full of life.)

The rapid eye movements under her closed eye lids indicated that she was sound asleep and dreaming away to her heart's content, and he'd be frank: how she could sleep through such stressful times, he didn't know but envied the thought. He sighed, his wide bride eyes searching her sleeping form, curious to what the pinkette was dreaming about. Was she dreaming about kicking more butts? Or...being a princess in her own fairytale world?

He closed his eyes once more, again tuning out the sounds of his surroundings around him and exhaled slowly, the ghost of a smile lacing his features as he drifted off to sleep without any interruption. _Maybe he and Kyoko can be happy in dreamland, wherever it may be..._

* * *

><p><em>Kyoko-chan...You're so cute when you twirl like that...!<em>

Tsuna was living the dream—he had been dreaming peacefully for the last 10 minutes, making kissy-lipped faces at the love of his life (_Kyoko-chan..._) while sitting on top of a marshmallow and cake mountain. Unbeknownst to him, he was in for a rude awakening—courtesy of Reborn, of course. Asleep and unaware, he practically screamed when felt a jolt of adrenaline rush through his body as the small loveseat he was comfortably nestled in suddenly tipped over and fall backwards.

In mid-fall, the perfect dream was shattered and his wide brown eyes immediately snapped open, his body automatically trying to jump out of the couch before it hit the floor, "HIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

That...was entirely unsuccessful.

As soon as he did that, he only managed to make himself look like a fish flailing around, and had done nothing to get him out of falling. A loud crash was heard—before he knew it, he found himself looking at the ceiling with the back of his head stinging from the impact of the ground.

The brown-haired boy, with his pride gone and his face flushed with embarrassment, gritted his teeth, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he cradled the back of his head; writhing in his place on the floor, he weakly rolled out of the fallen seat and glared at the smiling baby that stood at the legs of the table, "REBORN! I was having a good dream! What was that for?"

"You shouldn't be so relaxed in serious situations, No-Good Tsuna," the baby reprimanded with his small arms crossed over his chest, "Something bad could happen, you know."

"Huh? Bad?"

Tsuna grumbled with a strained voice as he pushed himself off of the floor in a messy manner, rubbing the back of his head as he stared at the baby with one eye brow raised. Tilting his head to the side, he questioned the baby, "What could happen that could be so bad? Didn't you say that this room is hardly ever used? It's not like we'll get in trouble or anything..."

"I didn't say you wouldn't get in trouble." At that statement, the baby shot the boy one last smile before making his way over to his little (and Tsuna sweat dropped at this) den, which consisted of a roast for his food and a coffee maker—with a water gun Leon and mugs to complete it. _WHAT. _Tsuna began to panic once he registered Reborn's previous words.

"We...WE COULD GET IN _TROUBLE_ FOR BEING HERE?" His face cringed in distaste, kneeling down in front of the hitman to get an explanation, "Why did you bring us here then, Reborn?"

It took him a few moments before he realized the room was too quiet regardless of Sakura's slow breaths, Reborn's sizzling food, and the splashes of the coffee maker; at the very least, Yamamoto would've made a comment that had to be along the lines of, "Hey, the more fun, right? Ahahaha!" and Gokudera's retort of, "Don't be so nonchalant about this, you brick head!" At the thought of the tall baseball player and the hot-headed boy, something clicked in his head.

"Where are Yamamoto and Gokudera-kun?" _That _was why it was so quiet—though, he wasn't really complaining...they were sort of loud whenever they had their little one-sided arguments (courtesy of Gokudera, who'd usually just yell at Yamamoto for being so care-free while Yamamoto would laugh in response; _did that even _count _as an argument? _He wasn't so sure anymore—he wasn't so sure about _anything _anymore) and all Tsuna wanted to do at the moment was rest his head and sleep the rest of the day away.

Reborn flipped the sizzling food with his chopsticks, lifting his doe-eyed gaze to give the brown-haired boy a smile, "They left to find a nurse for Sakura-san—you should go and check outside to see if they're back yet."

_The nurse? _He sweat dropped; _they're looking for a mystical creatures..._the brunette had never _once _even catch a _glimpse _of the said nurse in his time of coming to Namimori Middle, as if she didn't even care about children being hurt on school grounds. _What kind of responsible adult was that, anyway? _SHE WASN'T EVEN THERE WHEN HE TRIPPED AND SCRAPED HIS KNEE AND ELBOWS ON HIS FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL.

(_But still, if it weren't for the nurse not being there, then Kyoko-chan wouldn't have given him band-aids. _So he guessed the nurse not being there was both good and bad.)

Nodding, he stood up and brushed his uniform of dust that may have flew onto him when he had fallen to the floor, making his way to the door with slumped shoulders; _surely by now, the two would be having another one-sided argument and causing a ruckus down the hall, with Gokudera complaining about how stupid the school is for hiring such an incompetent nurse. _

Mentally sighing, he rested his hand on the door knob; since when did he have such..._overwhelming _friends? Yamamoto was clueless; Gokudera was very short-tempered and brash; Sakura's punches hurt—even _without _using that catra...charak...whatever life force she used.

"Don't forget to dodge, Tsuna!"

He blinked, looking over his shoulder as he opened the door; with a questionably glance, he could only make out Reborn's smiling face—which, he should've known by now despite the short amount of time of knowing him, was probably a sign that he'd be pulled into something against his will—but shrugged it off with the roll of his eyes, the question flying out his other ear. Turning his attention back to the door, he took hold of the door knob but paused once more when he heard a few voices yell at each other from behind the door.

Brown eyes widening, he began to spazz out, "W-What..."

_WHAT THE HECK WAS GOING ON OUT THERE? _With curious and frightened eyes, he slowly and carefully peeked his head out of the door, looking left and right before he—_were those _red _armbands? _Low and behold, there were the red infamous armbands, sitting comfortably atop the black sleeves of at least 5 or six tough-looking upperclassmen, who were conversing amongst each other—two of them were having a playful banter about the other's hair.

Now _those _armbands certainly did not look like a careless washing machine mistake.

"N-No way..." The blood began to drain from his face to the point where he could blend in with the walls. _Oh no, no, no, cannot be seen, must go back inside to hide —_

With his dish-sized eyes glazed onto the group of Committee members at the end of the hall, he took a step back with the intent to hide inside the room, but he did not succeed in doing so. His eyes came in contact with one of the members, whose grin had dropped from his face as soon as he saw him. Tsuna blanched. The older boy reacted first.

"HEY! What the hell are you doing in there, you little punk?"

At the exclamation, the brunette's face became paler (_if that was even possible!_); as soon as those words left the guy's mouth, the rest of the group's eyes were on him. And _boy, _he had a bad feeling about what was about to happen. (In other words, _he was probably gonna get hurt some way, somehow, should Reborn not oblige to do so._) Yelping in surprise and fear, the brown-haired boy backed away, only to trip on his feet and fall back onto his butt—he didn't waste anymore time on the floor.

_Curse him and his terrible luck! _He scrambled to get to his feet as quickly as possible, hearing the steps of the members echoing through the halls, barking out commands to each other as they did so; once again tripping on his feet (_why, why, why, WHY?_), he stumbled his way towards the door and put all his weight on it, fumbling with the lock before hearing it click loudly. At the exact some time, a loud bang was heard on the other side of the door and the loud sound made him flinch backwards in response.

"Reborn," he gasped out, looking over his shoulder, "Reborn, we have to get out of—"

He stopped himself when he realized the spot where Reborn _should've _been (along where his coffee and food were supposed to be) was no unoccupied, with no evidence of the small baby ever being there in the first place. He blanched once more. "REBORN! Where'd you go? You can't leave me here with them!"

"Damn it! You're dead, kid!" _OH GOD—_the loud muffled curse was enough to send him scrambling away from the door in an attempt to find a hiding place; whipping his head from side-to-side, he searched the small area for a nook, a cranny, a tiny place where he could just hide and be away from all the possible punches and kicks and beatings those guys were going to hand to him once they get through that door (which he hoped would NEVER open for the sake of his health and his poor bones). His panicked gaze stopped at the large dark brown desk near the windows; _the desk! _

Behind him, the door began to shake and crack at the hinges as the older guys on the other side began to barge their way in, ramming into the wooden door repeatedly and without stopping. The bangs began to become louder, more forceful, and Tsuna was definitely _not _waiting for them to get inside. _Gotta hide! _He was stressed, he was under pressure, and the fact that there were limited—if not, _none at all_—places to hide did not do anything to placate his situation.

Tsuna was about to make a run for the desk when suddenly the sound of the hinges of the door ripping out from the wall interrupted his hysteria and—

"I'm gonna pummel you, you little piece of crap!"

The first thing he did was—and despite what other people thought, he did not turn around; _why the heck would he want to, anyway? _He was just going to end up with a black eye—fall into a ball of protection (he probably looked stupid but _hey, he was in for a beating_) and grip onto his hair to the point where it felt as if he were going to pull it right off his scalp.

He inwardly cried; _this is the end of me...why? _And so, with that thought—along with the pitter patter of their shoes and the irritated insults that were directed towards his curled up form—he did the only thing he could do at the moment.

"AIIIIIIEEEEEE! REBORN, HELP ME!"

Unfortunately for him, his cry for the baby's help (he inwardly scowled; _it wasn't like he would be heard by him, anyway. The baby had a horrible habit of not being there at the right moment..._) was drowned out by the angry booming voices that began to surround his trembling form.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he froze when one of them rested their shoe on his back and kicked him forward rather roughly, sending him into a sprawl on the floor. A pained cry escaped his lips when the pressure of the foot increased as the member leaned on his leg.

The member's gruff voice spoke from above him, "Who do you think you are, huh? Coming inside here and messing up the place?"

"You know what happens to punks like you who try and ditch class, right?" Another spoke, and through his vision (which was pretty much blocked by the shiny floor), he could see one of them crouch down to thrust a finger in his face, "Hmph. You look like a scrawny kid. Now, if you've got any cigarettes or alcohol, you better hand them over or we'll make sure you look black and blue for the rest of the month. Stupid punks like you really should learn how to respect the school."

Tsuna wanted to scream out to them badly, he wanted to tell them that _he didn't smoke cigarettes, _and that _he would never, in his entire life, even _touch _alcohol_, but the pain of the foot on his back and his chest against the floor was too overpowering, and he could only whimper as one of them kicked his sides.

"Why don't we just hand him over to Hibari-sama? This idiot needs to be taught a lesson to never fuck around with the Disciplinary Committee."

_HIBARI-SAN? NO, NO, NO, HE COULDN'T FACE HIM! _His thoughts were interrupted when another member stepped on his legs, efficiently stopping him from moving. With that action, the brunette's face scrunched up in horror and he automatically prepared himself for the barrages of punches and kids that were going to happen. (_Well, at least it wasn't Hibari-san who caught me..._) Once again, his eyes shut close, bracing himself for any pain that was going his way.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming in here and not—what the fuck—!" _What? What's happening? _

From his sprawl on the floor, he could hear a few punches and kicks before the guys above him broke out into an uproar—the foot at his back applied a generous amount of pressure before stepping off completely, curses and swears spitting at something (or someone) before charging at it. One of them groaned before hitting the floor while the rest ran around in anger.

"You bitch—aaaugh!"

The grunts of pain and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor filled his hearing; the chair scraped across the ground before coming in contact with the linoleum, following that was the sound of another body. He remained on the floor—shaking and too scared to move, he didn't want to do anything (because maybe if he played dead, he'd be left alone and wouldn't face the same fate as the Committee members) at all.

And so, not risking his cover being blown, he slowly, _slowly_ lifted his head up _just a teensy bit_ so that his vision—instead of facing the _very beautiful _floor—was more clear, only to have a member come crashing into his vision.

Black cloth brushed against his nose as the fallen member lifted himself up a tiny bit before going unconscious. He yelped, pushing himself off of the floor and away from the non-moving body only to have his back up against the base of the desk (he cringed in pain; spot where he had been stepped on was still tender, and the hard desk did nothing to relieve it), "Hiieeee!"

It was only then he noticed all the bodies that littered the floor—the members that were once, in his eyes, so scary and tough were now useless and out of commission and _he could not believe that _one _person actually did all of that. _

With that thought in mind (and another one along the lines of, _'OH GOD THAT COULD BE ME I COULD BE KNOCKED OUT OH MAN I DON'T WANT TO END UP LIKE THEM'_), he forced himself to look into the eyes of the person who had saved him from getting beat up (because the person who did that deserved his thanks), letting a relieved smile cross his face—

—only to gaze into a pair of familiar emerald green eyes.

"Tsuna, are you okay?"

He froze, eyes focusing on the figure—slim, average height, feminine build—that was now leaning over him, concern flashing across their face and pink hair invading his vision. _When did...? How..._He was confused, he was speechless, yet most of all, he was relieved; he had never felt so happy having Sakura Haruno as an ally and a friend.

The brown-haired boy had to practically give his all from crying out in relief and jumping to hug her slim legs, instead choosing to give her a shaky smile and letting his hands—which, he had only noticed that time, were balled up and gripping onto his hair for God-knows-what—fall into his lap with a dull 'thump.' For some odd reason, Sakura seemed to come to his rescue often—even more than Gokudera, his self-proclaimed right-hand man (should Gokudera find out about this, he was _sure_ the boy would probably come to his aid more often and rub it in the pink-haired girl's face)—and right now, Tsuna was sure he owed her three or four of his lives.

Shaking that thought off, he realized the girl had been patiently waiting for him to grab her hand, which was offered to him while he was in his own little world; giving her another shaky—yet this time, grateful—smile, he took it without much grace and practically lost his balance if not for her vice like grip that helped steady him.

"Tsuna," she let out quietly, her green orbs boring into his own brown ones with such kindness and relief (which wasn't often in his opinion, seeing as she was usually irritated by Gokudera; the thought made him recall the time he had seen the softness in her eyes that fateful day in Namimori Clinic where she thanked him for saving her life...but then he remembered that she had called him a pervert and nearly punched the living daylights out of him before that), letting a dainty hand rest on his shoulder.

His eyebrows rose in question and silently egged her on to continue. "I'm so glad that you're alright. Those guys didn't hurt you, did they?"

Before he could answer, he was being inspected and interrogated with barrages of questions involving his health and if he was hurting anywhere (the thought of the tender spot on his back came to his mind, but he shook it off; _geeze, it's not that bad...I can handle it_); Sakura took hold of his arm and pulled it towards her gently, her eyes still soft yet holding a sense of distance, slender pink eye brows knitted in concentration as she turned it over a few times in search of something. It took him a few moments before he realized she was looking for wounds.

With her voice chattering non-stop about his 'injuries', he mentally pursed his lips at himself; _really, he knew she had some weird freaking magic thing going on which somehow healed wounds _(chakra, he remembered)_ so he should know_. With a hesitant grin of re-assurance lacing hi lips, the boy scratched the back of his head with his free hand (that didn't last long; she took hold of his other arm as soon as he felt the spiky tips of his hair poke his fingers), "S-Sakura-chan, you don't have to—"

Her questions suddenly came to a cease. He stopped mid-sentence, a small, "Eh?" escaping his lips unceremoniously; irritation leaked from her petite and suddenly-quiet form. He gulped.

"Where the _hell_ did Gokudera go?"

Tsuna, fearing the wrath of the pink-haired girl should he not tell her, gulped with his eyes wide and cautious, opening his mouth to speak before he was once again cut off. Taking a step away from him, Sakura shook her head in annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest. He watched as the softness disappeared in a snap (_to be honest, he kind of found it weird how her emotions could change in a semi-second_); in its place was anger, fury, annoyance, irritation—_fire_.

Hesitantly stepping away from her, he watched on with fearful eyes as she paced around the room vehemently.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS HE THINKING? He can't just leave you alone like that! Why the hell is he such an idiot? Couldn't he just stop being such a_ dumbass _and use his brain for once? I'm sure his brain is lacking in the knowledge department, but I'm sure as _HELL_ he'd realize that YOU SHOULDN'T BE ALONE!"

When the last few words left her mouth, he felt himself feel a bit hurt at that. _Did she think I can't handle myself? _(He decided not to answer that question and left it rhetorical.) On a side note, the way her face was beginning to turn red made him uncomfortable. Inwardly whimpering, he made mental note to never, _ever, _get Sakura Haruno angry, _ever_. He was sure that if he did, he'd be castrated and his head would be on a stick—_Tsunayoshi Sawada kabob_.

Her eyes traveled to something behind him, and the anger in the air seemed to rise. He could practically _feel_ her aura radiating red.

"Gokudera, YOU REALLY _ARE_ AN IDIOT! I mean, who the hell leaves someone behind and without protection in the Reception Room—"

Sakura stopped mid-sentence, her emerald eyes—which had quickly lost its anger and frustration—wide and focused on something on the desk behind him. _What? _Tilting his head to the side in curiosity, he glanced over his shoulder and analyzed the desk only to see nothing suspicious (_it was just a desk_—with a name plate at the front that looked unappealing and a shiny surface that seemed to gleam in the sunlight).

After a few brief moments, he turned back to Sakura with his brow creased in worry, taking a step closer to her rigid form.

He placed a hand on her shoulder with slight hesitance, "Sakura-chan...are you alright...?"

She didn't answer him. He was beginning to get worried now; _sure, it wasn't often the soft expression in the girl's eyes was seen, but if that was the case, then seeing fear in her eyes was even rarer._

If he recalled, the only time fear was inflicted on her features was when _Hibari-san _was around, but he wasn't (_unless he was hiding somewhere behind the desk but that was highly, HIGHLY unlikely seeing as Hibari-san was too busy patrolling his precious school and what not_)—and so, wanting to find out what had got the girl so spooked, he waved a hand in front of her face. "Uh..."

He was once again answered with silence. The lack of her voice seemed to put him on edge, as he fidgeted uncomfortably in his spot, and was not a good sign. By now, she should've _at least _told him to be quiet so she could continue staring at nothing (maybe send him a brief glare, _but she didn't_), but this was so..._out-of-character_. The brown-haired boy bit his lip, brow furrowing;_ just _what_ was wrong with her? _

A slight brush against his shoulders pulled him down from his inner thoughts. Blinking a few times, he turned around and was met with the sight of Sakura, slow and sluggish with slight hesitance, making her way to the desk (which really boggled his mind because _it was just a NORMAL DESK, nothing special about it except for the fact that it was unusually shiny and new-looking_); his eyes latched onto her every move, watching her hands—shaky, slow, fingers twitching—raise to grasp onto the metal name plate in front of her.

"T...Tsuna..." She had finally spoken to him—only at that moment had he noticed how soft-spoken and shaky her voice was. He instantly felt a shiver down his spine; _this was definitely _NOT_ good._

He waited for her to turn around, to voice her concerns, but she didn't (and he wished she'd change her mind because he was just so on edge; something was different, something was wrong, and he could practically feel it in the air around them)-she simply stayed with her back to him, hands still clutched onto the name plate. He heard her gulp before she continued, "Tsuna, why are we..."

His stomach flipped uneasily. "Sakura-chan, what's wrong...?"

She stayed silent for a few moments before a strangled whimper escaped her lips. _What was wrong? Why is she so non-responsive and not talking?_ His stomach was now doing back flips and made him stagger unceremoniously; before he could do anything, though, Sakura slowly turned around, and _he froze_.

At that moment, so many things ran through his mind all at one time; the first thing, though, was the expression on the pink-haired girl's face. She was pale, to the point where she looked like paper, with her eyes wide with fear and her emerald eyes so scared and worried at the same time; the second thing he noticed were her hands, once strong now trembling, her grip weak but strong enough to hold up the name plate. The final thing he had noticed was the said name plate. It was only then he had gotten a good look at what it said.

And as soon as he read the words on that metal rectangle (the characters on the plate seemed so familiar..._they were the same characters that were on the red armbands of the Committee Members_), he finally realized why she had been so _scared_, so _pale_, so _out-of-character_.

"W-Why...Why are we in the Namimori Disciplinary Committee's Reception Room?"

His blood promptly ran cold.

* * *

><p>"Tsuna, what are we going to do? We can't stay here, we can't—"<p>

In the middle of her pacing, she came to a sudden halt, her emerald eyes growing wide with realization. Slowly, _oh-so-painfully slow_, her gaze traveled to the fallen chairs and couches to her right that were screaming (if not, roaring) for her assistance on the floor. The pink-haired girl continued to stare at the chairs, her mind filled with so many different thoughts at the same time—yet in the jumble of words from her so-called conscious, there was only one thing she could make out: _Kyoya Hibari did not like mess. _

And that was proven when she _'had cluttered the classroom' _that time she snuck into the school (she hastily stopped herself from thinking about it any further).

With that final thought, she turned her body towards the cluttering mess—ignoring Tsuna's shaky questioning voice in the process—and let the hysteria, which she had been trying to suppress until now (because if she didn't she was sure her sanity would be lost and all would go to hell; _she was supposed to be the calm, composed, and logical-thinking one in any situation, dammit!)_, overwhelm her entire state of mind. _That was never a good thing. At all._

"OH GOD! Hibari-san's room, it's messy! Messy, messy, messy!" _Leaving Hibari-san's room cluttered? Were they _insane_? _

Yamamoto, even though he was such a charming boy with a charming smile and a charming everything (_**oh Yamamoto-kun~!**_ _**If my tail weren't so caught in between my legs at the moment, I could daydream about you forever!**_), was probably insane because even if his smile was charming, he smiled often...TOO OFTEN, in her opinion, which made her question his sanity—_because really, who smiles that often? _

Gokudera was probably insane, too, because _really, who the _hell _carries around dynamite in their clothes? _For all she knew, he probably his them in his underwear (_**FREAK**_).

Tsuna...was probably the _least _sane, because...well, she just saw him as Tsuna—no more, no less—and had come to favor his cowardly, average-teenage-boy, _normal _self.

(_And her? Well, she guessed she was _somewhat _normal..._)

Sakura, with her long pink-hair whipping behind her wherever she went, hustled from one end of the room to the other, dragging the unconscious bodies of the Committee members to the side and laying them against the wall in an orderly fashion (and by orderly, she meant sitting upright against the wall in a line with their hands crossed over their chests and their heads down so that they looked like they were slacking off on the job).

_Do they look fine? Will Hibari-san even notice that they're unconscious? _Her emerald eyes locked onto the mess of chairs in the other corner of the room; _chairs! The chairs! _

Giving the members a quick once-over (because even the slightest out-of-place-thing would decide her fate), she zipped to the other end of the room and, without wasting any time, focused a small amount (just a teeny bit; _there was no way she was using any more than that because she surmised Hibari-san would bit someone's head off if he found the legs of his couches crushed and splintered_) of chakra to her arms and grabbed the legs of the two fallen couches at the simultaneously.

She did not miss the way Tsuna's face paled and dropped at the sight of the towering pieces of furniture. _**OH YEAH, I'M AWESOME! BE AMAZED, THIS IS CHAKRA, BABY! **_

(_But she had her moments._)

Her heart did not rejoice at the words in her mind; it was too busy hammering against her ribcage to do so. And so, with her multi-tasking meter blowing off the charts, she balanced the couches on her palm carefully, making sure it wouldn't fall while she resumed her ministrations. (_To be honest, she had never really pegged herself to be a multitasker but _damn _everything was so hectic at the moment and Hibari-san could walk in any minute...if multitasking meant living to see the next day then _dammit _she'd multi-task until she grew four more arms_.)

Using her feet to straighten out the green rug that had been disheveled during her dispute with the Committee Members, she made sure there was not a wrinkle or imperfection in sight, and when she was finished she gently placed the pieces of furniture back where they were before their unfortunate fall. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead as she began to re-arrange the table and the couches.

_Okay, so the smaller one was adjacent to the longer one...make sure it looks like a 90 degree angle, Sakura! C' mon, math was your best subject! _

"Sakura-chan, you're starting to scare me..."

At the sound of the nervous and squeaky voice, the said girl whipped her head in the direction of the brown-haired boy, who seemed to flinch and take an involuntary (_did he just squeak?_) step back at her sudden gaze. _Was he an idiot? Now was not the time to be making such foolish statements! _Getting up from her previous crouch, the 14-year-old walked towards him with her emerald eyes wide with fear, lifting her shaking arms to grip his shoulders; before she knew it, her expression changed from one of fear to desperate pleading.

"Tsuna...don't you see? Don't you understand? This is the Committee's _meeting place. _This is _Kyoya Hibari's _territory."

By now, her hands had dropped down to his wrists and were beginning to tug at them profusely, pulling him in the direction of the door. "We can't be here...! We need to get out and as faraway from this room as possible. There can be _no _evidence of us having been here..."

She did not let him answer; she hadn't even waited for him to open his mouth to respond, for that matter—instead, she spun on her heel and all but dragged him towards the door. Luckily for her, he didn't resist and gladly tried to keep up with her pace (even if he nearly fell face-first into the floor because he didn't expect her grip to be so vice-like).

Emerald eyes darted from the previously messy places; she analyzed the guards at the wall, and was satisfied a teensy bit when she realized they had not moved since she moved her there; her gaze traveled back to the cozy-looking area of furniture where the couches laid peacefully and looking as if they had not been disturbed at all. _**IT LOOKS GOOD! NO PROOF THAT WE WERE ACTUALLY HERE! **_

The pink-haired girl chewed on her bottom lip nervously as they reached the door, her hand reaching out to grasp onto the silver door knob; _they'd be safe, they _had _to be. If anything, Hibari-san can pin the blame on the slacking members should he find any imperfect spots..._

Her hand did not make it to the door knob; before she could actually have a grip on it, it turned by itself (her breath hitched and her heart skipped a beat) and—

"BOSS! Are you alright?" _Oh. What great timing. __**YOU FREAKING IDIOT, WHY'D YOU HAVE TO SHOW UP**_** NOW, **_**OF ALL TIMES? **_

Unfortunately for her, the door (which had been kicked open by some _rude ass_) had been too quick for her to actually comprehend, and before she knew it, she was sent flying backwards (Tsuna was sent flying backwards, too, because he wasn't prepared for the girl in front of him to fall), her back colliding a bit too harshly for her linking into Tsuna's chest; everything after that happened in slow motion, frame by frame passing her eyes.

As she felt her feet slipping beneath her (because those white shoes had no darn grip _whatsoever_) and her balance being disrupted, she watched as the door in front of her fully open, revealing an aggravated figure that she had grown to dislike (_**immensely, tch!**_), and there was absolutely _no_ mistaking it; the spiky _gray _hair (because even if he proclaimed that it was silver, she'd believe that it was gray; _because really, silver is shiny and pretty looking while his hair is dull and ugly_), the permanent scowl, the stormy green eyes that changed from an expression of worried alertness to wide-eyed realization of what he had done.

Behind him, Yamamoto's towering form stood with that smile still latching onto his lips. She then felt Tsuna lose his balance behind her also, a squeak of surprise escaping his lips as his arms—scrawny with barely a hint of muscle—shot up out of reflex to grab onto her shoulders as if he were attempting to catch her. But she knew, _oh how she knew, _that there was a low chance of that happening—especially when Tsuna lacked the stamina and strength to hit a volleyball decently.

(She knew she sounded harsh, but she was just speaking the honest truth—despite his lack of physical strength, Tsuna was actually a pretty decent guy she guessed.)

And then everything went back to usual speed when she felt the indirect pain of hitting the floor. The back of her head hit something (_maybe it was Tsuna's collar bone...he had let out a yelp at almost the same time it had happened_) and that was it before she found herself staring at the ceiling with her legs tangled with Tsuna's. The girl felt him spit out a few strands of her hair that had ended up in his mouth. _**Ew.**_

"FOREHEAD! Get off of boss! He's being suffocated by your ridiculous pink hair!"

Even if she wasn't looking, she heard the soles of his shoes tap against the linoleum of the floor and surmised that he was walking towards them to throw her off of his 'Precious Boss,' but she was already up and fixing her clothes before he could have the pleasure to do so.

If everything was under normal circumstances, then she would've gave him a chakra-free punch to the back of his head, engage in a heated argument of who's smarter than who and who's the bigger idiot after her recovered, then leave with a smile on her face; but _no, _she had a deep feeling in her gut that normal circumstances, at the moment, was too farfetched.

She didn't even have the energy to shoot him a quick glare—she just continued to switch her gaze between the door and them, hands clamped tightly onto the ends of her blue skirt and shifting anxiously in her spot. There were more things to worry about than Gokudera. Ignoring the three boys, she let her glance linger at the empty doorway, feeling the color of her face slowly drain with each second that passed.

_He could walk in any second, and that would be it_—_that would be the end of her. _It was a miracle that she was still alive after being warned with that catch phrase of his (_"I'll bite you to dea_—_" _She stopped herself before she could think about it anymore), and it was by a shred of pure luck that she actually escaped his wrath after disturbing his sleep and cluttering up the classrooms with only a few scratches and bruises to spare.

_There was _no _way she was going to die now._

A hand was gently laid on her shoulder, and she immediately flinched at the sudden contact. With hesitance, she ripped her gaze away from the door and turned towards a surprised-looking Yamamoto, his eye brows raised and his lips pursed into a thin line. Through the thin fabric of her blouse, she felt him brush her shoulder with the pad of his thumb in almost a concerned manner; his grip tightened a bit but she had a feeling that it wasn't to harm her, but to get her attention, as his brow knitted together to further show his worry.

The tall boy titled his head to the side, leaning towards her as if to get a closer look at her face (which, she figured, looked absolutely terrible), "Are you feeling alright? You keep looking at the door..."

For a few moments, she mulled it over, her mind trying to come up with excuses so that he wouldn't be so worried (_he should be more worried about Hibari-san, _that's _what he should be worried about, _not _her_).

Would he believe that she thought she just saw someone standing at the door then disappearing as soon as she saw it? Or would he believe that she saw an alien? Maybe he'd believe that she saw Lambo running around outside in the hallway...but then she remembered that Lambo had a high-pitched obnoxious laugh that could be heard miles and miles away.

And so, coming up with a conclusion, she forced a convincing smile to her face as she looked up at his towering form.

"I'm fine; I'm just...still tired out from the bridge. I mean, it collapsed...you know? And it's not every day you see those kinds of things..."

_God, she sounded so pathetic. _

She let her voice trail off as she stole another discreet glance towards the door, chewing on her bottom lip, before she focused her attention once more to Yamamoto to see his reaction. He looked as if he were contemplating about her response, amber eyes which were usually so bright and happy and so full of laughter—a bit darker than usual, searching her face for any sort of deception. It bothered her a bit to see him so serious.

At that, the palms of her hands became clammy and she wondered if she had been caught. _Just don't think about it too much, Yamamoto-kun. Please, just believe me for now..._She was about to say something to change the subject (because a serious Yamamoto-kun, she was not used to one bit) when suddenly his eyes changed back to its usual brightness.

His lips stretched into a familiar grin that she was relieved to see, as he let out a laugh and let his hand slide down to her back, patting it a few times before retreating back to rest at his hip. "Hopefully that won't last long! I'm sure you'll get your energy back soon, right?"

Once again, she forced a smile to her face and nodded wordlessly. He continued with a hand scratching the back of his head carelessly, "That thing you saw at the bridge must've scared you real good to make you faint, huh?"

He was just joking, she knew, but it didn't make her feel any better; usually, his jokes would lighten up the mood, and no matter what, she was always certain that he could make her smile any day but now...she just simply nodded, her eyes distant and once again glanced in the direction of the door once Yamamoto turned away.

_Only Kyoya Hibari would have the power to do that even if he didn't know it, and even if she didn't want it to be that way. _A knot came to her throat as she let her gaze travel to Gokudera, Tsuna, and Yamamoto, who were busy chatting near the couches (she was nearly crazed to find out that Gokudera had been leaning against the big couch and had ruined her 90 angle). What she needed to do now was get out of that room _as soon as possible. _

Taking a step towards them, she interrupted their conversation with a smile that didn't make it to her eyes. "Hey guys, shouldn't w-we...shouldn't we leave?"

Their voices came to an abrupt halt as all three pairs of eyes focused on her; Tsuna looked confused and a bit surprised (probably because it had been the first time she had actually spoke since Gokudera and Yamamoto arrived), Gokudera looked vexed (not that that wasn't usual...), while Yamamoto was the first to respond, titling his head to the side in a curious manner. "Eh? Why? We just got here!"

She searched her brain for any excuse for them to leave, but before she could say anything, Gokudera cut her off with his brash voice.

"Forehead, what's your problem? We're not leaving—this is officially the Vongola Headquarters, and we can stay here as long as we want! Right, boss?"

Her bottom eye lid twitched at that statement as the silver-haired boy turned to Tsuna with a small thumbs up and a grin; in response, the brown-haired boy protested against it, saying something about 'this is not our headquarters' and 'I'm not a mafia boss, we don't need any headquarters.' She couldn't contain her anxiety for long; her emerald eyes began to dart back and forth, all around the room, her hands began to tremble and fidget, her knees began to feel wobbly—she couldn't keep still at all.

"S-Sakura-chan—"

"I'm fine," she blurted out, forcing herself to stop moving and keeping her eyes on the three boys in front of her. Despite her attempt at keeping still, she could feel her knees and hands trembling. She continued nonetheless in hopes that it would finally convince them to leave. "And class is sure to have started. W-We're missing a lot of work, and we could probably get detention because the teacher might think we're ditching class. So come on, let's—"

"If _you _wanna go back to class," Gokudera barked, sending a heated glare in her direction as he jerked his head back to the open door behind him, "You're free to leave! But this is _Boss's _territory now, and there ain't no way we'll be giving this room up—so stay or leave, 'cause we need to spruce this place up to Vongola Headquarter quality!"

The explosion professional cheered, slapping the smallest boy on the back (who, she mentally noted, was looking a bit flustered at the sudden contact; she did not miss the horrified-incredulous look on the brown-haired boy's face when Gokudera had mentioned the room being his 'territory') with a grin stretching across his face. Tsuna yelled out weakly something in protest, but before the discussion could escalate into anything further (probably into something that had to do with 'boss don't worry I've got everything under control' and 'I told you before I don't want to be a mafia boss'), she opened her mouth to argue once again but—

"Those idiots couldn't even guard the Reception Room. Hmph."

_No. No. No. NO NO NO NO NO NO._

As soon as the voice spoke out, the previous conversation between her and the three boys went lost. As soon as the voice spoke, her stomach churned and churned and she resisted the urge to double over in pain; as soon as the voice spoke, the atmosphere—which felt so normal and less-intense just _moments_ before—dropped to something akin to sub-zero (she knew she was exaggerating, but the goose bumps and the rising hair on the back of her neck said otherwise); as soon as the voice spoke, she really wished she hadn't woken up in the first place.

Tsuna, Yamamoto, and Gokudera seemed curious as to who the sudden intruder was (_**YOU IDIOTS! DON'T LOOK AT HIM! WE COULD JUST LEAVE AND LET HIBARI-SAN DEAL WITH HIS INCOMPETENT LACKIES!**_) and turned around, leaving her to hide in their looming shadows. _Good, she wasn't seen. _For that small moment, she was glad she was shorter than Yamamoto and Gokudera.

Gokudera's voice rang in her ears distantly, his tone rude with a hint of irritation, but she did not pay attention. Her body—already trembling and voicing out her fears—began to quake, tremors of fear spreading throughout of her body too quickly for her likely; her sight was blocked by Yamamoto's shoulder, but she didn't need her eyes. She didn't need her ears, either. _Kyoya Hibari's aura was just too suffocating to miss. _And as the electricity in the air shocked her back down to Earth, she realized _they were not going to make out of there alive. _

A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, her throat going dry at the thought. Unconsciously, she huddled closer to (and she'd only realized this in disgust later) Gokudera's form, her palms (which were still trembling uncontrollably) resting on his shoulder blade; she made absolutely sure that her pink hair was hidden and not seen by the school's prefect.

Her breaths were becoming heavy now, they were becoming faster and shorter, and she could practically _feel_ her heart trying to burst out of her rib cage and splat onto the school's floor—she mentally panicked, emerald eyes wide with hysteria as she began to (_and she made sure she was _very _discreet with this, because one wrong move would have a tonfa in her face_) inch towards Yamamoto, who stood uncharacteristically stiff and alert; once she was there, she let out a breath she had been unknowingly keeping in.

The dark-haired prefect—although she couldn't see him—spoke from his spot at the door, "Who are you?"

_HIBARI-SAN IS HERE, HE'S HERE, OH GOD WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO_—

"—why do you want to know, weirdo?" The silver-haired boy's booming voice brought her back to the situation at hand, as she whipped her head in the said person's direction with horrified realization.

She mentally blanched, the sharp pain in her stomach happening once again; _was he stupid? Did he _want _to get kicked in the ass? __**I'LL DO IT IF HIBARI-SAN DOESN'T DO IT FIRST**_—_**GOKUDERA, YOU BIG IDIOOOOT!**_She wanted to glare daggers at him, she really did, but she couldn't bring herself to do it—her eyes were permanently glued open to the point where they looked like brand new china dishes on her face; and unfortunately for her, she did not have telepathic powers.

Gokudera continued on with no indication of ever hearing her mental message. As she stood on her tip toes to peek over Yamamoto's shoulders (because she needed to know when and where to dodge should they be charged at), the bomber spoke again, his voice was laced with slight arrogance and pride while doing so. "The Vongola family doesn't tolerate nosy guys, especially ones that try to waltz into our headquarters without our permission!"

_**Gokudera, you are the most idiotic, nonsensible, crap-tastic boy that I have ever met! YOU'VE SIGNED US A DEATH WISH, NOW WE'LL **_**ALL **_**PAY FOR YOUR MISTAKE! **_

A shiver of fear went down her spine when she saw how cold Hibari's gaze was—she had bite on her tongue to resist from backing away from a gaze that she was not used to (in the worst way possible; it felt like every time she saw his purple-gray-eyed gaze, it was the first time...with blood and tonfa and just pure, raw fear crawling up her back _every single time_). _What were they going to do? _They couldn't just run, obviously, since the enemy himself was leaning against the doorway oh-so-casually is if finding intruders in _his _room happened everyday for him...

"So you're a group, huh? I hate weak bottom-feeders that band together—they crowd too much," he said coldly, eying the silver-haired boy with those eyes of purple-gray.

Sakura's observant eyes caught onto the slight movement in the older boy's pockets before traveling up to his face once again—she did not miss the way his eyes narrowed slightly as he continued, "_I want to devour them._"

_I'll bite you to death. I'll bite you to death. I'll bite _you _to death. _Her breath hitched at the words that began to replay in her mind, looping endlessly to her misfortune. The thoughts of their last encounter began to rewind and play, repeating and repeating until she had every single movement and line memorized and _she just couldn't take it anymore, her mind was just going crazy and...and..._

A small whimper escaped her lips (_damn her and her inability to hold her tongue!_)—before she knew it, she backed off in an incredulous stupor at her own mistake and bumped into the wooden desk behind her.

All eyes were on her in less than a second.

The first pair of eyes that had landed on her _pathetically pathetic _form were the ones she hoped had not noticed her in the first place; purple gray eyes snapped to her, narrowing into dangerous slits at the mere sight of her.

_Oh my god what have I done? _Thoughts of what he was going to do to her made her shiver in fear, as she shrunk at the pure malice she felt emanating from his taller form (_of course he had every reason to be malicious I mean there are strangers in his room and we haven't even offered him candy or anything and oh god what the hell am I thinking I'm going to die)_.

She tried to breath, _she really, really, did, _but it was hard to—the room was beginning to spin. Her head began to throb painfully. Yamamoto and Tsuna began to question her, taking steps closer to see if she was alright, but by then they were just blobs in her eyes, and their voices were distant, too.

Her eyes didn't stay on them for too long, though. They seemed to move on their own accord—either that, or there were invisible strings pulling her head in a certain direction—and traveled to the door. _No no no please don't look I can't_—_I can't do this I just_—

But it was too late. Enlarged emerald met narrowed purple-grey. At this, her heart dropped and her stomach churned painfully; not only that, but just _looking _at him, standing there against the door with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on her (which, she noted with dread, had stayed on her since she blew her cover; _why me? Why me? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME?_), made her feel as if the world was going to end.

Through her peripheral vision, Gokudera—who had probably been busy reassuring his 'boss' that nothing will happen—looked back at her over his shoulder, his stormy green eyes unreadable and just probing her shaking form for something, _something, _then changing his gaze to the prefect at the door. With her ears ringing, she heard Gokudera's irritated voice 'tch'.

"Hey, buzz off!" _You idiot. You idiot, you freaking idiot. You'll only make things worse. _

But it did not distract the prefect from her, no, it did not (and this only made her cringe unintentionally). In actuality, Hibari didn't even bat an eye, and kept his even watch on her despite Gokudera's bark. Unfazed by the silver-haired boy, Hibari pushed himself off of the door and stood upright—he was still, hands remaining in his pockets. She flinched away, hitting the desk once more; _something bad was going to happen. _Her stomach churned uncomfortably once more.

His voice, velvety smooth and deep and making her shiver again, pierced through the tense room, "You're the girl that disrupted my nap the day before...you've cluttered up the rooms, too."

At that moment, she swore her heart stopped beating. _He remembered her from the day before; the day before, when she had made the grave mistake of sneaking in school. She made the grave mistake of waking him from his nap and fighting him and throwing a desk at him. _He remembered her and—

_She should very well just die where she stands. _

"How annoying." Emerald eyes watched on in horror as his hands—which had been comfortably resting his the pockets of his pants—flew out into a battle stance, gripping firmly onto the ends of his metal tonfa; the world was beginning to spin and everything just made her head hurt and now Hibari was going to end her life right then and there. Her ears picked up Tsuna's panicking voice, shaky and sputtering nonsense as he stated out the obvious.

Yamamoto seemed to become tense at the sight of Hibari's changed stance, his normal smile (_the one that would always settle her a teensy bit whenever she felt nervous or scared_) wiped off of his face completely; he stood warily in front her and Tsuna. Gokudera did not even seem fazed by Hibari. She glowered; _obviously. He doesn't know. He doesn't know _anything. _He's just the new kid; he doesn't know what Hibari-san is capable of. _

That was what she saw before Hibari had charged in her direction—it was the last thing she registered before her mind and body shut down completely, leaving her to stand there in a frozen state of terror as the prefect came closer in a flurry of black, grey, and white. It was at this time that she realized death was inevitable. And that she'd die at the hands of Kyoya Hibari—who, in her opinion, was a personification of the Grim Reaper himself; tonfa instead of scythe, Namimori Middle School uniform instead of a dark coat.

She was going to die by some kid _her age_. Not a heroic death, not an old age death, not an accident death. _An execution, _she guessed with her eyes squeezed shut. Bitter resolve filled her veins. _This is it. _

She waited—for what seemed like hours, years, decades, millenniums—but the hit just didn't..._happen. _The pinkette, in her shaking stupor, began to become confused (_and how she could feel such emotions in a time like this, she certainly did not know but for some odd reason her gut told her something was up_); had her death already happened? Was she granted the opportunity to be spared from the pain of metal? Maybe she was in limbo or something like that, and everything was just numb because—

"Tch. You can't even defend yourself from some stupid kid! What's wrong with you, Forehead?"

At the sudden jab at her pride, all irrational, anxiety-producing thoughts cleared her mind. _W-What? _Eyelids peeling open, she had expected to see something more menacing and scary that would ultimately make her soil herself (_well, probably not the last part. She had more grace and class than to 'pee her pants' in front of her friends_), but instead...she was met with white cloth. _The hell is this? _

Focusing a bit more—_dizzy, everything was just a jumbled mess of colors and sounds_—she realized it was the white cloth of Namimori Middle School's uniform, being donned by the one and only person she knew who'd have the insensitivity and gall to actually call her, 'Forehead.' The silver-haired explosives specialist who dared to do the things she thought were foolish and impudent. _Hayato Gokudera_—who, to her absolute surprise, stood in front of her with the orange sticks of dynamite ready in his hands.

Sakura took the moment to register everything that had happened in that short span of time; Hibari was not as close as she'd thought he'd be (_not the tonfa-to-neck she'd expected but this was way better_; _in fact, she was relieved that he was a good distance away because...she wasn't very well ready to die yet_), and was just a little under a feet from where he had originally been before he decided to charge at her.

Looking around, she quickly skimmed the room and the two other recipients only for her emerald eyes to land on the two pairs of orange sticks on the ground. They had been cut under the tip, and if she were to squint her eyes a bit, she'd see that the string at the top that Gokudera used to ignite the dynamite was burnt—a sign that the dynamite was already lit before it was chopped in half. And by the looks on Hibari and Gokudera's faces, they were probably in the middle of a strife. The sheer idea of it was preposterous.

_But..._

There was something about Gokudera, something—but she couldn't place her finger on it. There was a certain element to him that made something inside her become confused, flabbergasted. _Just what was it? _The way he held his ground, the way he looked at Hibari with such confidence, the way he stood shoulders high and posture saying, "There is no fucking way I'm going to let you hurt anyone today — not when I'm here to punch you down!" It made her..._jealous. _But the thought of _her _being jealous of _him? _Why would she feel that way?

(She already knew the answer. She just didn't want to admit it.) Maybe this time...maybe she'd swallow her pride.

Her eyes traveled to her feet, shutting in remorse as her mind clouded with self-doubt. _She was jealous because she knew she couldn't do something like that. _Jealous, because he was a hero—he had stepped in her way and saved her from her potential doom and risked his life to save her own pathetic ass. Jealous, because she _knew _(_and god dammit she knew even if she didn't want to know_) that even with her determined, head-strong and fiery facade that she was just a poor, selfish little girl who couldn't face her fears to save her life.

Gokudera was a hero. Yamamoto was a hero. _Tsuna was a hero._ _Just not her. _

_She wasn't a hero. _That title could go to anyone else but her.

_**BUT I WANT TO CHANGE THAT! **_

Her hands—which had been tightly fisted at her sides—trembled, lips twitching down into a self-hating scowl. Through the veil of shadows that hid her face, her emerald eyes lit up with resolve, head slowly lifting up in an attempt to show that _she wanted to change. _She gritted her teeth. She was tired of being saved, she was tired of always ending up being the damsel in distress, _she was tired of having to catch up with the others all the time. _

She was sick and tired of it—_and fuck, she wanted to change. _Her eyes had caught onto Hibari's movements—they were subtle, they were probably unnoticeable, but she caught onto it. He was going to strike once more.

_No more will I be weak. No more will I have to watch the backs of my friends as they protect me. No more will they get hurt. No more..._

_**Because this time...I'm playing hero. **_

And then he struck—Gokudera had not seen it coming and his eyes widened, but she was quick to act; after all, she had been the one to expect it. Maneuvering past the dumbstruck 14-year-old, the pinkette quickly summoned chakra to her feet and pushed herself towards the boy she was—or _had_—been afraid of (_well, she was still afraid. But hero's can't be afraid in the face of danger_—_not when their friends are there_), who was in mid-charge when he had first saw her. The wide-eyed expression on his face would forever be etched into her mental wall of accomplishments.

She allowed a small, triumphant smirk creep onto her face.

The tonfa in his right hand swung at her as soon as she landed, but she saw it—even if it was quick—and before it could land a direct hit, she raised an arm to block her face. Tsuna and Yamamoto's cries of worry were heard, but all she could here was the dull sound the metal tonfa made as soon as it cam in contact with her left forearm. _Thanks, Tsunade. _If it weren't for chakra, she'd be on the ground bawling her eyes out because her arm was broken and had been shattered into a million tiny pieces, but she was smart enough to reinforce her limb with chakra.

Still, she winced. _Just because it was reinforced did not mean it didn't hurt_—in fact, it hurt like hell, but she didn't worry about that. It would just bruise later.

Brushing that fact aside, she switched her gaze to the Prefect in front of her. There he stood, just at arm's length away with a purple-gray gaze that she easily recognized as _blood thirsty and irritation. _

_Of course he'd be irritated_—they were banding together, and what would happen should they 'band together?' _He'd bite them to death. _'Rid the school of those bottom feeders.'

Purple gray eyes narrowed, and emerald followed suit; she sharply inhaled. For a moment, the fear crept back into her system, sending tremors down her spine when she realized that _Kyoya Hibari _had his whole attention on her at the moment; _should this encounter had happened a few hours prior, then she would back down, turn on her heels and run the hell away from there _(she'd probably move to a new city, too, and change her name). But not now. _She wasn't going to let anyone else get hurt. _

Swallowing her fear, she did something she'd never, _ever, _thought she'd actually do in her entire life.

Lips twitching into the most malicious scowl she could muster, she glared with hatred and determination, because there was _no way in hell _she was just going to stand there and let her friends do all the fighting. "Don't touch my friends!"

_Watch me from the background, guys. It's Sakura Haruno's turn to be the heroine of this tale._

* * *

><p><em>Hey there, :) I guess I'm back. Sort of. Uh. Well, yeah. Oh, I'm planning on updating fragile flowers in empty hands soon! I'm updating out of the request order, though. My files are all jumbled up and stuff, Dx Golly, I'm terribly sorry if anything seemed OOC! I'm somewhat a bit rusty...<br>_

_Ah yes, and I just wanted to say...thank you. Thank you for supporting me for so long! I mean, it's almost been a year since I first posted this fic up! Geeze, it feels like yesterday since I actually began planning this whole thing out! Oh well, time sure does fly by fast, aha.  
><em>

_Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! C':  
><em>

(I do not own Naruto or Katekyo Hitman Reborn—I simply make fanfics for them.(


	8. not your average homerun

_Badumpbadumpbadumpbadumpbadump_―

Crap. Crap crap. Crap crap crappy crap a doodley doo.

_Badumpbadumpbadumpbadumpbadumpbadumpbadumpbadump_―

Her heart was beating so wildly in her chest that Sakura swore she could hear the badumpbadumpbadump over the rational part of her conscious screaming _YOU'RE AN IDIOT WHY ARE YOU GOING AGAINST KYOYA HIBARI WHY WHY WHY. _But she swallowed it down, desperately trying to push those thoughts away. Now definitely wasn't the time to be imagining the gruesome and blood-filled death that _would_ befall her after trying to defend her friends from said dark-haired Prefect. She needed to focus. She needed to concentrate. If her mind slipped while she was fighting, it could cost her the battle.

_Maybe even her life. _The pinkette gulped.

Emerald eyes clashed with narrowed purple-gray, the pressure of the tonfa against her forearm never ceasing―in turn, the pressure she had applied against the tonfa was equal, the clash sending both tonfa and forearm trembling. The tension in the air was suffocating, to the point where the tiny hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end. She gulped once again.

But then something caught her eye―the slight twitch of the corners of Hibari's lips, and it took her a few moments to register the fact that he was _smirking_ at her._ Oh god_.

"Impressive," he murmured, and the pinkette had to fight the urge to let her jaw drop to the floor._ What._ What was impressive about blocking a hit that would have decapitated her if it had landed? He continued, a small 'hmph' escaping his lips. "You can block with your bare arms―and without a scratch."

Inwardly, she smirked. _'Bare arms?' Puh-lease, it's called chakra, plebeian. No one's dumb enough to block that kind of hit with their bare limb without their bones shattering into millions of tiny pieces._ But that would just be between her and her only―Hibari didn't have to know. Instead of snorting at his previous words (which was preposterous really, because just moments before she was scared straight of him), she shifted her footing for better leverage against the weapon trying to push her back. She said nothing, though, and instead waited patiently for him to continue with a cocked head and narrow glare.

"Tell me, pink-haired girl," he smirked, applying even more pressure to the tonfa against her. The action caused her breath to hitch (her emerald eyes visibly widened; crap crap _crap_ this is not a good sign), her stance faltered just a bit but she instantaneously recovered and held her ground. Brow furrowing, she stared up at him with caution. _This was not good―_

_"Do you mind if I devour you?"_

He had said that before, she remembered, during their first fight―as soon as the words had left his throat, he had attacked her and caught her off-guard. That was her first mistake when first fighting Kyoya Hibari.

But she knew better now, she really did; she definitely would not make the same mistake twice. So before he could even lift his hand to strike her, she beat him to it. Sharp eyes catching the smallest movement in his free arm (_oh no you don't!_), she quickly pulled her own free arm back and focused chakra into her fist―the hum of the chakra enveloping her senses as she did so―and brought it down onto his form. She fought down a smirk, relishing the way his eyes widened a tiny fraction at her sudden movement.

"Yeah, I do mind actually!"

_**SHANNARO, YOU ASS!**_

Unfortunately, he was gone before her fist could come in contact with his face, the tonfa retreating back to its owner as he pushed himself away to avoid getting his face bashed in. With hawk-like eyes she watched him, calm and calculating. A miniscule bead of sweat traveled down the side of her face. She knew she didn't stand a chance in a fight with him (unless he magically slipped on a banana peel and fell face first into her fists), but she needed to be strong―not for herself, but for her friends.

She inwardly growled; _starting today none of her friends were going to get hurt anymore, not by some herbivore-eating cannibal._

With the thought of her friends getting beaten to a pulp by the dark-haired teenager, she pushed away all previous fears about Kyoya Hibari and clenched her fists tightly. _No one hurts my friends and gets away with it! _Before she knew it, the growl had escaped her lips; preparing to pounce, she glared at the boy―her opponent―in front of her and readied herself to attack again.

"_Shanna_―oof!"_ What the hell...?_

"S-Sakura-chan!"

Her mind went blank, her whole body freezing when a punch (not enough force to give any serious head trauma, but just enough for her brain to stop overflowing with strategies and battle plans and just shut down) came in contact with the back of her head, sending her head forward. She blinked.

On one hand, she was confused because clearly the enemy in the room was Hibari, who was standing at the other side of the room with his hands clenching tonfa. Unless he had someone behind her working as a sleeper agent, then he wouldn't be able to hit her from that distance. That, and his punches wouldn't be so merciful.

On the other hand, she was quite annoyed. **I'm **_**the only one who punches heads here!**_

Through her peripheral vision, someone had stepped up next to her. She blinked again as Gokudera looked down at her with crossed arms and his trademark scowl, brow furrowed and _why the hell did he look annoyed with her? _Did his pea-sized brain forget that she had saved him from getting his head knocked off his shoulders? She was about to snap at him and ask him why the hell was he punching his ally and not the dark-haired bad guy in front of themwhen he scoffed.

"I could have handled him if you hadn't butted in, Forehead!"

The 'tch' that left his mouth sent her blood boiling. How..._how dare he_―as she said before, she had saved him from getting his eye gouged out by tonfa and...? _**YOU STUPID LITTLE―AAAAUUUGGGGHH! **_She seethed at him, mentally fuming; was now really the time to argue about how he could have kicked Hibari's ass and_ blah blah I'm Boss's Right-Hand Man and yadda yadda_? Okay, fine, if he wanted to be like that, then she wouldn't butt in the next time he was about to get a tonfa slammed into his pretty little face―

"...but thanks."

It was uttered softly under his breath, not loud enough to be heard by the whole room but just enough for her to hear it, and as soon as those words were registered in her mind, all thoughts of strangling Gokudera immediately ceased. _He...was thanking her? _Disbelief was written all over her face (because did _Hayato Gokudera_, her sometimes-prick-sometimes-tolerable-friend, actually _thank_ her? Preposterous!) as she surveyed him, but her mind drew blanks when she saw the barely-there tint of pink that laced his cheeks.

Her eyebrows raised to the point where they almost disappeared into her hairline. Was he..._blushing...?_

"Wow, Sakura! That was definitely some hit you took!"

Her wide-eyed gaze broke away from the once again-scowling Gokudera (okay maybe she was imagining the whole blushing thing. It was just a very long day and she was just tired because _Hayato Gokudera_, blushing? Absolutely impossible!) as a hand clapped onto her shoulder. Turning to the once-empty spot beside her, her eyes of emerald met the familiar mirth-filled amber orbs of Namimori's star baseball player.

Yamamoto smiled down at her, and once she remembered how handsome Yamamoto was, she melted in her spot. _He's smiling―at me! _

"Sakura-chan, y-you're...you're not hurt, are you?"

Tsuna appeared at her side, eyes wide with concern as he surveyed the arm that had blocked Hibari's hit. She stared at him for quite a while (and she didn't know why, really, but it was probably because they were all speaking to her so suddenly after she being so engrossed in her fight), but quickly shook her head.

"No, no, I'm fine," she said, her lips twitched up into a reassuring smile. "Thanks for your concern, Tsuna."

"Sakura." The small amount of pressure from the hand on her shoulder was what sent her staring back at Yamamoto.

As soon as their gazes met, the tall boy's eyes softened (at this, Sakura felt her heart flutter because _he was soooo handsome_―swoon!). The pad of his thumb softly brushed over the curve of her shoulder through her uniform, something she recognized as Yamamoto being concerned (he had done that once before, earlier, when she was panicking about being in the Reception Room), and at that moment, the pinkette felt very small under his gaze, like a child being reprimanded for doing something bad (and she didn't know _why_ she felt like that, she just _did_).

"You don't have to take him on alone, you know," he said, voice uncharacteristically soft. He stared down at her for a few moments, the concern lingering, but then he grinned―and Sakura could practically feel the cheerfulness emanating from him like the sun's rays as he laughed and shook her lightly.

"Besides, I don't ever recall there being a rule that teamwork isn't allowed in this mafia game!"

Next to her, Gokudera bristled. An accusing finger was pointed in her direction. "Yeah, you're such a show-off! Quit stealing the spotlight!"

She was about to reply (a grateful "Yamamoto-kun, you're right. Thank you" for Yamamoto-kun and a not-so-serious "Shut up and quit your whining" for Gokudera), but for some reason, the words got caught in her throat.

Something in the air changed. _Something wasn't right_.

The pinkette knew this feeling all too well, the feeling of intensity and electricity and fear, and at the pit of her stomach she knew something was wrong. And then she remembered―she remembered her fight with Hibari, that it was still going on, and _god she was so stupid for getting distracted in the middle of a freaking _fight.

And then there was a sudden spike of something and it made her breathing become harsh. _Oh god._ Her eyes widened, all the color in her face immediately disappearing. _Bloodlust_―she felt it, and it hit her like a freight train. Once again, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her brain was screaming at her to _run_, but it was drowned out by the uncomfortable pulling feeling swimming at the bottom of her stomach. Ignoring the confused looks on her friends' faces, Sakura slowly let her head turn back to the direction of where it had been facing before, towards Hibari.

Her heart stopped. "I hate weak bottom-feeders who band together."

By pure instinct, she roughly shoved the three boys around her out of the way (which earned her a few surprised yelps and "What the hell, Forehead?!" but she couldn't hear them over the blood rushing past her ears and the shouts of _dodge, get the hell out of the way, movemoveMOVE _in her mind) and instantaneously ducked to avoid the swipe of Hibari's tonfa that was meant to give her a concussion or something as equally disastrous.

Eyes narrowing, he didn't relent―he then lifted his leg and aimed a kick to her side. Her hands quickly shielded her side, forearms colliding with the cloth of his pants in a harsh manner; the soles of her feet skidded a few inches backwards at the force of his kick.

Barely dodging the swipe to her abdomen, she jumped backwards to get some space―only for her eyes to widen because _what the hell Hibari, give me a damn break._

As soon as she was away from the dark-haired boy, he had apparently decided that _no, you're not getting a break you annoying little twit _(or that was what she was imagining him saying, she was pretty sure that was out of character though) and had attacked her with a flurry of kicks and punches and swipes―all of which she had a difficult time dodging and blocking and circling him to try to find an opening.

_He's too fast_...at that rate, Sakura wouldn't even be able to land a counter attack, much less give him a good crack to his face (or, if she was feeling really mad and could care less about playing fair, a good kick to his future devil spawns―although, fat chance of that happening because: one) she was too dignified for that and two) _he was too freaking fast_).

Gritting her teeth, her brow knitted in frustration. _Opening, opening..._she needed an opening to strike! If she could just maybe get behind him or something, she could knock him out with a hit to one of the pressure points at the back of his neck―no pain, quick and easy, left no mess behind, and he'd be awake in an hour. No one would get seriously injured and all would be fine. (If only things were that easy.)

Through the corner of her eye, she saw something flying towards her face―it was Hibari's hand, and in it, his tonfa. She inwardly cursed, eyes widening in the process; _dammit! _

It was too late to duck or dodge, his fist was too close for her to do that. So she did what she could do in what little time remained before his tonfa could come in contact with her face: she blocked it with her forearms again, the barely noticeable humming of her chakra heard as she hurriedly summoned it to her arms. She expected it to be like the last time, the force not even deterring her.

But then it hit―_and she was dead wrong._

The force of his hit wasso_ hard _that it had sent her skidding across the linoleum floor (and through her panic she had heard the distinct screeching of her soles; for the second time in her life, she despised the fact that there was no grip on her shoes) and colliding with the large desk behind her, back slamming against the edge.

There was a loud crack―and she wasn't sure if it was from the desk or from her back. And then all she registered was pain, _pain_, throbbing pain at her lower back and _it hurt like hell_―she was momentarily blinded, eyes clenching shut as a hiss of pain escaped her lips. Disoriented and feeling as if she had been hit with a sledgehammer from behind, her legs gave out beneath her and she found herself panting on her hands and knees.

Tears were beginning to gather at the corners of her eyes because _it hurt, everything hurt. _Through her blurred vision, she glared at the ground and ignored the throbbing pain in her back as she pushed herself to stand on trembling limbs in desperation. _Pathetic._

Pathetic―that's what she was. She had been through worse―Tsunade-shishou made _sure_ of that. And yet, she was pushed aside so easily _with just a single punch?_ If Tsunade-shishou were here, she'd be disappointed. She'd shake her head, turn away, and drink some sake because _goddammit she did not spend 2 years training her ass off only for her to crumble at the lone strike of some bratty as hell teenager._ But the pain at her back was just too intense and before she knew it, she was sprawled on the ground, cheek pressed against the cold floor.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her tearing eyes in pain and anger and self-loathing. _Pathetic._

"Sakura-chan!" Through her messy vision of pain and pink, someone's shoes stopped in front of her. She didn't need to look up (she didn't really want to, anyway...she'd just make herself look more stupid) to know that is was Tsuna. Skittish hands fretted over her, unknowingly resting on the spot where she had slammed into the desk. The small whimper that she had let out scared said hands away. "S-Sorry...!"

With such gentleness that only Tsunayoshi Sawada could have (and with as much awkwardness, too; at that, Sakura inwardly snorted), he helped the pinkette push herself off of the ground, steadying hands on her shoulders. Brushing aside the blazing pain at the curve of her back, she turned her head to the brown-haired 14-year-old and sent a shaky smile of appreciation―it took her all her strength to keep it just for a few seconds, before it turned into a grimace because of her back. She quickly tried to hide it and lowered her face so that it would be covered by her long locks. _Thank you, long hair. Never again will I cut you._

"You're hurt," she heard Tsuna mutter from beside her, voice laced with concerned, but she shook her head.

"N-No...I'm―I'm fine." The strain in her voice and how she was so _not_ fine made her cringe. There was an attempt to get up, and through gritted teeth she persevered. "I-I can fight, I'm fine―"

The sharp burst of pain at her back sent her falling back towards the ground, making her hiss―at both the pain and at herself for not being able to withstand it. Shaking her head (_because no dammit she had to get the hell up, she had to fight him, she had to protect her friends, she would not be weak_), she tried to get up once again but―to her surprise―Tsuna's arm prevented her from doing so. The pinkette turned her head towards him again, wondering what was he doing and why wasn't he letting her fight, only to be met with his worried face.

"Sakura-chan," he pleaded, "Don't push yourself too hard! You're hurt!"

It only took her a few moments of staring at Tsuna before she looked away, biting her lip in shame and mild frustration. _He was worried about her_. The way his brown eyebrows knitted to how wide his eyes were and how his hands were beginning to tremble and―everything, it just made her feel guilty. Because she knew that if she were strong enough, that if she were _stronger, _he wouldn't have to worry about her.

She was weak. Again. She clenched her teeth but kept quiet and stayed frozen to the ground with Tsuna's arm around her shoulder.

"I...I'm sorry, Tsuna," she spoke, voice quiet. _What could she say? _Sorry for being weak? Sorry for not being able to last long in a fight? Sorry for not being able to do anything? Her hand clenched in her lap, and when she looked up, she locked eyes with him and spared another trembling smile―deep down, though, she knew it was fake. She was certain he knew, too. "I'm sorry for making you worry...but I'll be fine, I promise."

Before he could protest (because she was sure her pale, grimacing face was _far_ from fine), she reached for her back and gingerly placed the palm of her hand on the curve of her spine and over the spot where it had collided with the edge of the desk. There was a small burst of pain that made her cringe a bit when her hand came in contact, but once her hand began to glow green, the warm sensation of chakra made her relax.

With each second, the pain ebbed away. After a few more moments of healing, the last of the injury was gone―in its place was nothing, normal, painless, and to test it out, Sakura arched her back.

Nothing. A small, tired smile graced her lips. _Freaking shannaro._

She turned to Tsuna, watching as his eyebrows flew to his hairline and his eyes grow wider and wider as time passed. "I told you I'd be fine, Tsuna."

A quick glance ahead of her told her that Hibari would attack any given moment―at that, Sakura's fists clenched. _This fight was far from over._

"I can―" The pinkette made an attempt to stand up (although the small wince she made told her that her back was still a bit raw from the healing) and lightly brushed off Tsuna's hands, which flew up to her shoulders to bring her back down. Struggling to flee from his grip, she let an irritated huff escape her lips. "I'm okay now, I can fight―"

"Sakura-chan, don't!"

"Oi, Forehead!"

Emerald snapped up when something stepped into her line of vision. The image of silent Hibari (who, she noted, had his hands in his pockets once more; that was not a good sign...was it?) was replaced with someone's back. Her eyes traveled from the worn out black sneakers to the many bracelets around their wrists and finally to the familiar head of silver. Gokudera. She looked up at him, eyes wide and questioning and_ was he going to fight him?_

The silver-haired explosion-specialist glanced back at her over his shoulder―the slight twitch of his lips indicated that he was scowling.

He grunted, "Stay down, Forehead―you're making Boss worry too much."

"Gokudera..." His name rolled off of her tongue unwillingly, Sakura's wide-eyed gaze staring back at him with her lips parted as if she were deciding whether or not to say something. If she did say something, she wasn't sure if it would be words of encouragement or words of insult (though she was certain that it would be the latter before she could even stop herself; she _really_ needed to get rid of that habit); all she knew was that _Gokudera_ was going to go up against _Hibari._

Worry etched itself onto her pained features; _would he be alright? _Would he last long enough for her to create some sort of plan to get everyone out of there and away from danger? Would he be okay? She didn't know, and that single fact made her chew on her bottom lip. All she could do now, she knew, was have faith in him―have faith in her _friend._

Stormy green eyes lingered on her battered form before turning back to face the dark-haired Prefect in front of them, and once he did, his arms crossed themselves over his chest―typical Gokudera, she noted to herself with pursed lips. The pinkette watched from behind as Gokudera dug into the pockets of his uniform, and when he brought out two identical cylindrical orange objects out, her face paled.

_Was he...? _He was going to blow _those_ up, in a room full of people? Her brow knitted in apprehension. Once more, she gnawed on her lower lip and hoped that Gokudera knew what he was doing. Getting blown to smithereens was definitely _not_ on her schedule―fighting against (and probably getting beaten to a pulp) Kyoya Hibari, yes, but having her body explode into tiny pieces? Definitely a no_._

"Gokudera," she muttered, voice low enough for just the three boys around her to hear. The only indication of him listening was the slight movement of his head, turning to the side a bit just enough for her to see some of his face.

Gulping away her fears (have faith, have faith, have faith, he'll be okay, he can handle himself), she gave a resolute nod and continued. "Be careful."

There was silence. But it wasn't until she heard a soft snort come from the boy standing in front of her that it was broken―he then turned to face Hibari and raised his hands in preparation to throw the sticks of dynamite. In a moment, they were lit, the hissing of the fuse filling the tense room. He stepped forward.

Then Sakura saw a blur―a blur of white and black and _there was a flash of steel;_ at that, Sakura's breath hitched―zigzagging towards Gokudera, who stilled in response and froze in his steps. Her eyes widened;_ move you idiot! You're going to get hit! _The kick that was aimed at him missed by a hair's breadth as he ducked down to prevent getting hit. He took that moment to throw the lit dynamite in the older boy's direction, a small look of triumph evident on his face.

"Take that, jerk!"

Hibari didn't even seem fazed by Gokudera's comment or the dynamite that was seconds away from blowing up and sending him into oblivion―and that very sight made Sakura feel a bit unnerved. She watched with hesitance lacing her pale features; _why wasn't he worried, or angry, or surprised or _anything_? _(She knew that if he actually was any of those, that would be totally out of character, but she was just trying to find some sort of reason as to why he didn't react to the fact that the dynamite in front of him was about to explode.)

Her unvoiced question was answered just moments after. Before the stick could even touch him, Hibari's arm flew up in a horizontal strike which cut off the tips of the ignited explosives.

The cylindrical objects fell to the floor with dull thuds as the fuse died out. Sakura watched as the older boy's eyes traveled down to the cut dynamite on the ground then once again focusing his purple-grey gaze on Gokudera. All the triumph that had been previously evident on the younger boy's face was wiped off.

The said boy gritted his teeth, hands clenched at his sides. "Bastard...!"

Gokudera's hands flew back into his pockets and before she knew it, another pair of dynamite was ignited. Fueled by irritation, he charged forward, sneakers squeaking on the floor of the room. Hibari had done the same and dove forward shortly after with a sort of dangerous grace that only he would have (at that Sakura gulped for reasons unknown). It wasn't long before they clashed at the middle―Gokudera was prepared to shove his dynamites down the dark-haired teen's throat (and she was pretty certain of that, too), but he didn't see the quick swipe heading down towards him.

Sakura felt her heart stop beating when the sound of Hibari's tonfa coming in contact with clothed flesh was heard. The 14-year-old nearly jerked forward from her spot on the ground when Gokudera staggered a bit, the hit almost sending him crashing to the ground. The silver-haired boy cringed at the contact, but a pained yelp tore from his throat when Hibari struck him with an uppercut―it had sent him stumbling back towards the couch. The loud 'THUD' of Gokudera's back hitting the furniture and, before sliding down the side, his pained groan was heard.

Eyes narrowed into slits, he stared up at the older boy and growled through gritted teeth. "Y-You...bastard..."

And then no more―he fell limp against the couch, head lolling to the side. In an instant, Sakura felt her medic side take full control and, as she abruptly stood up from her spot next to her brown-haired friend, ignored the concerned shouts of Tsuna and Yamamoto behind her. Quickly making her way towards the unmoving silver-haired boy, her brow furrowed in concentration as she kneeled at his side, gingerly taking Gokudera's head within her hands.

A quick once over and a check on his vitals told her that he was simply unconscious and her whole form relaxed._ He'll be okay. _She let out a sigh of relief.

"That's one down."

Sakura froze. A bead of cold sweat ran down her temple, her heart rate accelerating. The pinkette swallowed the lump in her throat and watched as Hibari readied himself to strike again―_who was he going after now? _By all means, she was prepared to fight him again now that she had healed her back and was about to stand up and take the challenge (despite the small nagging voice at the back of her consciousness that told her to _run run run_) but the sudden sound of Yamamoto's uncharacteristic growl prevented her from doing so.

"You...!"

"Yamamoto! Watch out―"

Tsuna's warning went unheard as Hibari moved, fleeting and quick―his actions were even quicker than before, catching the on-guard Yamamoto in a barrage of swipes and punches which the taller boy dodged easily. Through the fast-paced action, Sakura could see the way Yamamoto's brow knitted. Worry flooded her entire being; she had never seen Yamamoto like that, ducking and dodging and fighting back (and quickly pushed away the taunting of the small voice that said he'd lose, that he'd end up just like Gokudera).

There was a well-aimed punch that Yamamoto had thrown which the pinkette was absolutely certain would hit―a small amount of hope told her that if it land, it would allow him to make a few more good hits. She gulped, watching as the baseball player's fist fly towards Hibari's form.

But then Hibari smirked. At that moment Sakura knew that it wouldn't hit him.

"You constantly attack with your right hand." When Yamamoto's fist was close enough, Hibari sidestepped out of the way. That action had left the taller boy open for attack; his wide amber eyes indicated that he knew that, too. "Oh...you're in the baseball club, hm?"

Before Yamamoto could pull himself away from the Prefect, Hibari's grip on his tonfa tightened. "I was right."

The brown-haired boy's cry of "Yamamoto!" fell silent upon her ears, her emerald eyes watching the scene unfold behind her. A harsh kick to to his stomach sent Yamamoto careening backwards into the―_oh no._ Then, to her horror, the color drained from her face when she realized that Yamamoto was headed straight towards the wide open window behind him. _He'll fall out_―it was only when the top half of Yamamoto's body was out the window that Sakura realized _he's going to die he's going to die if no one saved him. _

There were only two words on her mind at that moment.

All she registered before she abruptly rose from her spot next to Gokudera with her hands balled into tight fists was _save Yamamoto-kun._

The small spike of chakra to her feet let her appear at the window in the blink of an eye, and before the rest of him could fall out she fisted her hand around the collar of his undershirt and pulled him back inside the room. In an attempt to stop him from simply falling to the floor, she pulled him towards her, arms propping him up to support his form.

There was a flood of relief when she felt the heavy body of the boy slump against her, his hands wrapped around her form as if she were his lifeline (and if the situation was a lighter one, she would have blushed and inwardly squealed because _hot damn Yamamoto-kun was hot and she actually got to hold him yipee _but it wasn't and at the moment she was scared as hell for him, Tsuna, Gokudera, and herself).

By the way Yamamoto was shaking in her hold, he was still in pain from both Hibari's kick and the collision with the edge window. She gnawed on her bottom lip and adjusted his body so that she had access to his back and his face was resting on her shoulder―once she had a steady grip on him, she allowed a small amount of chakra to check his vitals for any internal injuries (a kick like that could have caused an organ to rupture or something) in discretion. _None._ The girl sighed.

It was only then Tsuna was able to recover from the shock of seeing his friend nearly _fall to his death _and stumbled towards them. Nearly tripping over his own two feet, he appeared at her side and clumsily helped her steady him. He and Sakura shared a look―grim realization―before looking back at Yamamoto.

"Yamamoto-kun, please rest...you're injured."

Her voice was not above a whisper as she lowered him gingerly onto the ground, letting him lean against the small portion of the wall beneath the windowsill. The boy―whose eyes had been previously squeezed shut due to the hits that he reciever―cracked an eye open and glanced at her through his blurred vision. A shaky hand was lifted from the ground, Yamamoto's head weakly turning in her direction.

"S-Saku...ra..." That was all he got out before his eyes closed, hand going limp and falling to the ground with a dull thud. Her breath hitched, her entire form stilling; _no he's not dead you idiot, he's fine he's fine he'll be fine. _The rapidly beating heart in her chest did not waver as she stood, eyes never leaving Yamamoto's unconscious form. _He'll be fine. Gokudera will be fine. Tsuna will be fine. I'll be fine. _We're_ going to be fine―_

"Two down." Hibari's voice announced behind her, and at that, her blood boiled.

All the fear she had previously of him was wiped out, and in its place was sheer rage that was quickly building up inside of her. _He_ was the reason as to why her friends were knocked out. _He_ was the reason why Tsuna was shaking in his shoes near the foot of the desk near her. _He_ was the reason her friends were hurt. And if _they_ couldn't stop him, then it was all up to _her_―she wouldn't let Hibari lay a single finger on Tsuna.

At the thought of kind and awkward Tsuna being beaten to a pulp by Hibari, she saw red. _No!_

Before she could even register what she was doing, she charged at him with her emerald eyes―used to looking at him with irrational fear―blazing in fury and determination because _no one hurts her friends and gets away with it. _He had moved forward, also; she had seen the oncoming horizontal strike and in an attempt to avoid getting hit she jumped upwards, satisfied with hearing the 'swoosh' of it slicing thin air. Hibari's head snapped up, purple-gray eyes widening, and _dammit _she was so prepared to smack that stupid face of his into the ground.

"CHA!"

But then Hibari used his tonfa to swipe upwards at her oncoming feet which then crushed all hopes of Sakura being able to make him eat dirt (_because goddammit she wanted to repay him for what he did to her friends!_). At the sight of the gleaming metal, she quickly pulled her feet back to her to avoid getting them hurt. Once Hibari's tonfa was just inches away, the girl kicked her feet out and onto the tonfa to propel herself towards the desk behind her―all the while in mid air. The soft pat of her shoes touching wood indicated that her landing was smooth (_**damn right it was!**_).

A blur of white and black intercepted her vision and she once again found herself ducking and dodging and attempting to counter-attack (but failing miserably) while trying to fight on the small, wooden, rectangular surface of the desk. The large stomps onto the furniture of both of their feet were loud as they exchanged attacks―Sakura using her fists, while Hibari, his tonfa. She gritted her teeth, feeling the itchy sensation of sweat rolling down the side of her face. _He's just too fast..._

There was a kick that she didn't see―fast and a blur, her eyes widened when she realized it was too late to dodge. Quickly raising her arms to block it, she felt his shoe connect with the chakra-reinforced limbs and promptly _fell off of the edge of desk because again_ she forgot how strong the force of his hits were, even _if _she reinforced her arms with chakra. Stumbling a bit from the surprise-fall, she recovered. But then she realized that Hibari was still on top of the desk, looming over her ominously, and at that, her eyes widened.

A small amount of fear spiked in her being, her stomach churning uncomfortably but she pushed it all out of the way. _Don't think like that! _Her eyes narrowed; _she would not be weak. She would not be weak. She would not be weak._

_She would _not_ be weak._

"SHANNAROOOO!"

With chakra surging throughout her arms, she sprang forward and picked up the desk by the edge and―with much pride―gloriously took in the way his eyes seemed to widen a bit when she lifted it up with him on top. He then jumped off to the side, to the open space in the room near the threshold, and Sakura's eyes gleamed dangerously._ Too bad. _With a loud yell, Sakura charged after the dark-haired boy and swung the heavy desk at him like a huge rectangular baseball bat.

When he dodged, she growled. The desk was way too heavy―_but again, he's just too freaking fast..._

The swipe that was aimed for her right side was easily (well, somewhat―the desk kind of slowed her down but she could make due with it seeing as she had to train with weights on her legs and what not...okay she wasn't fooling anyone, that was a really sloppy dodge) avoided when she skidded backwards, heaving the desk along with her. Emerald eyes narrowed; _now! _Wasting no time, she jumped into the air with the desk raised above her head, gaze heated as it locked onto the dark-haired boy beneath her.

The desk was brought down upon him―

_**TAKE THAT YOU BASTARD!**_

―or so she thought.

Instead of hearing the satisfying sound of wood hitting skull, she heard the sound of wood hitting linoleum―Hibari had zigzagged out of the way right before it was able to hit him, and in place of his body, the desk fell upon the unfortunate floor. The wooden furniture shattered into thousands of tiny wood chips and splinters on contact. Sakura gritted her teeth.

"Hyah!" Stepping over the wooden chips, she immediately sought after him with her fists raised. Both of met in the middle with Sakura blocking a punch to her face, and the next moment she was once again circling Hibari all the while avoiding and blocking his punches, swipes, and kicks. _Too fast, too fast_―still having trouble with keeping up with all his moves, she desperately tried to think of a way to end this fight quickly (fat chance of that happening though because _goddamn inhumanly fast_), all sorts of desperate strategies culminating in her jumbled mind.

_There!_ An opportunity was given when Hibari had sent a fist towards her, one which she barely ducked under. Maneuvering near his feet, she twirled around him and underneath the arm that was outstretched to punch her. The momentum of her spin was used to charge her hit and―once she was behind Hibari―aimed a chop to the back of his neck which would, hopefully (she really _really_ hoped), knock him out in one swift move. If not, then at least catch him off-guard or something enough for her to land a few good cracks to his face.

But before she could even land the hit, he spun around and caught her wrist with narrowed purple-gray eyes. She gulped. Emerald eyes widened. _Oh crap. _

His knee dug into her stomach, and at that, Sakura felt all the air in her lungs expel past her lips. The pain in her gut where Hibari had kneed her had her entire body screaming for her to stop fighting as she was sent flying into the back of the couch behind them. A shrill cry was let out at the combination of the pain in her gut and the pain of having her back slammed into furniture for the second time that day. Her pale features twisted into a grimace.

_Hurt. Everything just hurts. _Her knees were weak and wobbly, and her vision was becoming blurred. She propped herself up against the couch and gritted her teeth. _N-No...must not...give up..._

_She would _not _be weak._

Through her vision of blobs and light and pink hair, she saw the blur of Hibari advancing towards her. The punch that was aimed in her direction was dodged when she leaned backwards―unfortunately, the only thing she had registered at that moment was _dodge get out of the way or he'll break your nose and hurt you again _and temporarily forgot about the couch behind her.

When her head came in contact with soft cushions, she blinked. _Oh. Yeah. Couch. _It was only then she realized how awkwardly positioned she was, with Hibari pretty much standing in between her legs (_skirt dammit, YOU HAVE A SKIRT GET AWAY FROM HIM YOUR DIGNITY AAAAAUUGGHH_) and the whole top half of her body melding to the form of the couch. Not to mention, her neck was bent at an uncomfortable angle.

She blinked, face becoming a tad bit too warm for her liking despite the situation.

"Crap―!"

If she didn't get out of that position now, then one) she'd get a tonfa lodged up her nose, two) her skirt would ride up her thighs and she'd have another embarrassing moment that will forever be carved into the walls of her mind, and three) Kyoya Hibari would happen.

And so with eyes squeezed shut (_why, why, _why? _This is so freaking embarrassing_) she bucked her legs up and blindly kicked at Hibari with all of her might which―she noted with slight surprise and utter disbelief―actually came in contact with flesh (and at that she wanted to scream and pull at her hair because of _all_ the cool badass moves she did today that stupid poor excuse of a flail-kick-thing was the _only_ one to actually hit him?! _What the hell?!_). It had sent him flying back a good six or so feet.

With the limited amount of time she was given before Hibari recovered from that dumb kick, she flailed around the couch (all the while letting out stupid grunts like 'ugh' and 'eugh' and 'haaaaa') until she tumbled to the floor in a messy heap of white, blue and pink.

Hair invaded her vision, sticking to her lips and effectively stuffing her mouth―spitting out the strands of pink, her lips pursed into a thin line. Through the strands of bubblegum there was pure white; the view of the ceiling had never been so anger-inducing. The little ordeal with the couch left her breathless, so as she laid on the floor with her arms bent at unusual angles and legs tangled with themselves, she took deep breathes in an attempt to bring oxygen to her lungs. She glared tiredly at the ceiling, eyelids beginning to droop against her will; _so tired._ _In need of relaxation. _

Frustrated with just about everything, she was about to close her eyes when she realized that _oh crap _she was still fighting Hibari and _what the hell was she doing _and soon shot up with her back erect. Green eyes as wide as saucers, she searched around the room for the certain dark-haired Prefect...only to find nothing. Her lips pursed. _Where did he―_

"Sakura-chan! Behind you!" _Tsuna!_

The sudden cry of Tsuna had caught her completely off-guard. Her head snapped upwards out of reflex as she leaned backwards to get a better look only to come face to face (_crap_) with Hibari's unamused unamusement―along with him came an approaching punch that was headed in her direction. Her heart stopped (_crap_) and the only thing that kept her moving was her rekindled will to fight. _GET OUT OF THE WAY, IDIOT! _

The anger that had died down was suddenly refueled; with a growl, the pinkette scrambled from her sitting position and away from the strike, giving her some breathing space as she landed in a crouch. Her eyes widened when she saw him speeding towards her; _what―?_

Before she knew it, she was smacked away, her whole side knocking painfully into the other couch in the room. The sound of its wooden legs scraping against the floor was drowned out but her pained cry. She cringed; her whole side was a throbbing mess. She tried to stand tall, to get up, but it was too much and once again, she found herself dangerously close to collapsing as she supported herself with the couch beside her on trembling knees.

_Weak. Useless. Pathetic. _

Her eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring dangerously. _**NO!**_

Sakura saw red for the second time that day.

For years, she had feared the oh-so-horrifying Kyoya Hibari. For years, she had forced herself to respect him despite her previously mentioned terror. For years, she had to go through shaking knees, stopping in her tracks, fear and weakness whenever he was even mentioned. And now? No, she wasn't afraid, not at the moment―_she was pissed. _He had knocked out half of her friends and nearly sent one of them falling to their death. He had beat them mercilessly and was so willing in doing so.

Her fear of him caused her to tremble, to freeze in her spot, to be weak―_but no more! _She would be strong, for her friends, her herself.

_She would _not _be weak._

Hibari advanced towards her at a speed she couldn't comprehend, but she didn't move. All she did was stand there with her head hung low and her pink hair shadowing her gritted teeth. _Anger. Determination._ He was close now, but instead of blocking like she usually did, her hands quickly snatched the object nearest to her with chakra-laden hands and lifted it off from its perch on the ground with ease, ignoring the throbbing pain at her side.

"SHAN―!" _She would _not_ be weak._

The large object in her hands came swinging at him with precision even she didn't know she had. She could make out the small change in his expression as he zoned in on her. His eyes widened. She smirked.

"―NA―!" _She would _not_ be weak!_

He tried to backpedal, tried to fly backwards and away from the furious pink-haired girl and the large furniture that she had swung at him but it was too late―he was too close. _Ho yeah!_

"―ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

_**SHE WOULD **_**NOT**_** BE WEAK!**_

Her roar tore through the room like nails on a chalkboard, but in this case, Sakura found it to be pleasing to her ears. Followed shortly after was the sound of the furniture in her grip coming in harsh contact with flesh and the loud boom of something crashing into the wall. Scratch that―something crashing_ through _the wall and into the room next door. The destruction had sent dust and debris flying everywhere.

Coughing a bit, the couch she had been gripping onto was dropped onto the floor unceremoniously. Her chest heaved up and down in loud pants, shoulders slumping as disbelieving wide emerald scanned for any movement in or around the huge gaping Hibari-shaped hole in the wall through the dust that had circulated. There was nothing.

She...actually did that...

The grim (_and satisfied_) reality had then hit her tired face like a sack of fresh potatoes.

She had just knocked (and possibly _killed_) Kyoya Hibari into the next room over―_with his own couch, no less!_

_Freaking shannaro._

She didn't know whether to scream or dance or curl up into a fetal position and cry. She simply stood there with her jaw unhinged and her eyes wide and her hands limp at her sides because _she had just hit Kyoya Hibari_. With his _couch_. His couch! And she didn't know how to react!

One part of her wanted to give herself a pat on the back because that was a swing that probably Yamamoto-kun would be proud of. Another part of her wanted to scream and rip her hair from her scalp because she had just done that to the _Kyoya Hibari_. And another nagged at her to scoop up her unconscious friends and run into the Namimori sunset with Tsuna and Reborn (who was pretty much making himself comfortable in the corner of the room during the whole ordeal) at her side before Hibari staggered out of that hole.

"Y-You..." At the sound of Tsuna's voice, she slowly turned her head in his direction only to see him staring at her with a face of pure horror. She snorted before she could even stop herself. "Y-You actually...! Hibari-san...w-wall...!"

"I..." She started, voice croaking. Her throat was dry. "I think...we should leave now, Tsuna."

"But you―_the couch_―Hibari-san, is he―?"

_What?_ He wasn't making any sense. A sigh escaped her lips; the poor boy had seen enough for one day. With limbs made out of lead and shoulders sagging (_tired, so tired_; she just wanted to go home and shower and forget this day ever happened), she turned away from the dumbstruck Tsuna. She was about to make her way towards Yamamoto and Gokudera to wake them up when something suddenly made her stop in her tracks.

She froze. For the nth time that day, the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end. She knew this feeling all too well.

Her palms―which her limp at her sides―became clammy, cold; her stomach churned and turned and it was entirely uncomfortable. Sakura knew something was wrong. Something was _definitely_ wrong―and she didn't like it one bit. The atmosphere in the room changed noticeably, sending tremors down her spine (she'd be damned if that wasn't a blazing omen). Sakura's wide eyes flew around the room to catch look for the source. _Where? WHERE?_ Her breaths became harsh; _danger, danger_. Red flags popped up in her mind because _something was not right._

_RUN! _Her brain told her, urged her, begged her, but her body did not respond.

A immense wave of _killer intent _and _sheer bloodlust _flooded her entire being; it was strong, heavy, like fire burning into her back and―although she really did _not_ want to admit it―Sakura instantly knew it came from the hole in the wall. _Oh god. _Slowly, slowly, oh so painfully slowly, she faced the place where she had sent Hibari crashing into. _Oh god. _All the color in her face had immediately drained as she watched the opening with a panicked gaze. _Oh god._

Something moved―she heard it. Her hands balled into fists at her sides.

A footstep. Rubble moving against linoleum. More footsteps. And then a Hibari-shaped figure at the Hibari-shaped hole in the wall. Sakura wanted to die.

At that instant, all the fear she had desperately pushed out of the way resurfaced. This time, the fear had come back tenfold.

_OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD―_

As the figure emerged, she fearfully took in the blood that dripped from his nose and from the corner of his mouth, staining his white uniform crimson. Purple-gray eyes―which looked so calm from far away―burned in everything that Sakura could describe as utter loathing and resentment and sheer rage and _even more hate_ as they seethed down at her now-trembling form.

"A Namimori Middle School student, damaging the grounds of the very school she attends? Disgraceful."

Now, Sakura wasn't really one to swear but―

_"I'm going to bite you to death."_

"Oh..._shit_..."

* * *

><p><em>-laughs nervously- Hi...!<em>

_I can't believe I haven't updated in a year! It feels like it was yesterday that I uploaded the previous chapter. I also can't believe that it's been two years since I first posted this story up. Dang. Time sure does fly, doesn't it? _

_On a serious note, I have absolutely no intention of abandoning my stories. More so this one because I have a lot of ideas for it, and if I don't write them out my brain will spontaneously combust in a rain of blood and unused fanfic ideas. Yeah. I can't promise updates like I did two years ago (dang a chapter every five days...dang), and I'm sure it'll be slow now that senior year is here, but I _will_ update. _

_Other than that, I'd like to give my heartfelt appreciation to my new beta-reader Sasu-Cakes137! Thanks so so so so much, you're a real sweet heart! :'D_

_Oh, and new cover page! :D I was doodling on Sai and I figured might as well draw a cover, heehee. Oh, and I will be cleaning up my profile soon. Messy, messy, messy!_

_Well, it's getting...early...(it's like 2 AM where I'm from) so I'm going to sign off. _

_Thank you for reading! c:_

(I do not own Naruto or Katekyo Hitman Reborn―I simply make fanfiction for them.)


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